Ranma 2096 SE
by The Disciples of AGSIFW
Summary: The infamous fanfic "classic" returns. In 1996, Ranma Saotome was killed by the demon Chia and life was never the same for those he left behind. In 2096, Ranma is resurrected and returns to a world darker and colder than he ever thought possible...
1. Threads

Authors' Note: A quick note before we begin. The chapters in this series are presented in the rough chronological order of events as they occured after Ranma's death. As this is a collectively written series, despite our best efforts, some contradictions may still be evident. Additionally, any chapter that has an uncredited author was written by 4cw6, as this was his series when it began, but grew to be a collaborative effort as time goes on.

Additional information on the AU this series exists in can be found on our profile page. We will also be more than happy to answer any questions sent to us via PM or email. That said, on with the show..

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**RANMA 2096**

_Written by the Disciples of the Anything Goes School _

_of Indiscriminate Fanfic Writing_

_based on "Ranma 1/2" created by Rumiko Takahashi_

_and a fanfic by C. Michael Schumacher_

_Series created by 4cw6_

THREADS

By Erin Mills

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"The vengance of Heaven is slow but sure..."

--Tatewaki Kunou, Global Saviour

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Excerpted from _The Jusenkyo Tapestry: Hot Ghosts, Cold Water, and the Truth About the Invasion of Japan_ by Dr. Skeride Gosunkugi and C.A. Jansen, M.A., University of Tokyo Press, 2102

INTRODUCTION

In the last six years, there have been many theories and rumors about what prompted the invasion of Japan by the now extinct members of the Musk Dynasty in the winter of 2096. Most of these theories cite dissatifaction with the worldview propogated by the Kunou Foundation through most of the 21st Century. Others cite economic factors, or political pressure.

While these are all factors which commonly are the cause of warfare between nations, the Musk Invasion was prompted by something much more personal and much more sinister. In fact, the seeds for the invasion were planted over a century ago in the fall of 1996, and those seeds eventually blossomed into what has become known as the Second Coming of the Global Saviour as well as the realization that the supernatural DOES exist, even if the majority of the human race cannot perceive it.

Many people are familiar with the so called "ripple effect." The idea that one small event can lead to larger and larger events further down the timeline. Many science fiction stories involving time travel largely deal with this concept.

In the case of the Musk Invasion, the inciting incident had to do, ironically enough, with the place where they ultimately met their end.

The legendary Jusenkyo Training Ground of Accursed Springs located in the mountains of China.

According to legend, something or someone drowned at each of the over 100 springs at Jusenkyo. The nature of the training ground is that if anyone falls into one of the springs, they will be cursed to change into the form of whatever may have drowned there, be it human or animal.

The only known permanent cure for a Jusenkyo curse is to douse oneself in a spring matching one's natural form. A temproary cure can be found in the most simple of ways. A splash of hot water will change the victim back to their original form, but if they are splashed with cold water, the cursed form will return.

---

"Gran, what does this Jusenkyo place have to do with anything that happened back in 2096?"

"Keep reading, Miko, it will make sense soon enough."

---

Many of you are probably asking yourselves what this Jusenkyo place has to do with Japan. It all comes down to one individual who, unknown to him or most of the world at large, became one of the most influential figures in the history of the last 100 years.

His name was Ranma Saotome.

From his early life, Ranma had been trained by his father, Genma, to be the heir to the Saotome School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts. The two of them jourineyed around Japan for years, training and refining their skills. When Ranma was 16, the two heard of Jusenkyo and departed for China. While there, they both fell into one of the springs. Genma found himself cursed to turn into a panda, while Ranma fell into Nyannichuan, the Spring of Drowned Girl.

After this event, the two returned to the Nerima district of Tokyo, moving in with an old friend of Genma's, one Soun Tendo and his three daughters, Kasumi, Nabiki, and Akane. Soun and Genma had descided years earlier that Genma's son would marry one of Soun's daughters and by common consensus, except by the newly engaged couple, Ranma and Akane were affianced. Unfortunately, the two of them, already resentful over a misunderstanding involving Ranma's as yet undiscovered curse and the bathroom, got along like pair of wet cats in a burlap sack.

Shortly after this, things began to become rather strange around the Nerima district, as Ranma and Akane soon found themselves beset by suitors, rivals, and enemies alike appearing from out of the wood work with alarming regularity. We don't have the space to go into all the players in this romantic farce here, but if you would like to know more about how they all encountered Ranma Saotome and why they either loved/hated him, please see Appendix A at the end of the book.

For our purposes, we will quickly gloss over those relevant to the events in this book, referring to specific details when they become relevant in later chapters:

**Tatewaki Kunou: **Future Global Saviour. Attended Furinkan High School with Ranma Saotome and Akane Tendo. Infatuated with Akane Tendo. Obsessed with defeating Ranma. Later became infatuated with Ranma's cursed female form, oblivious to the fact that both were the same person.

**Ryouga Hibiki: **Rival of Ranma. Followed Ranma to Jusenkyo where he fell into the Spring of Drowned Piglet. Traced Ranma to Nerima, found in cursed form by Akane Tendo and adopted as her pet pig, P-chan. Akane remained unaware that her pet was also her friend Ryouga. Had no sense of direction and was rarely able to get from point A to point B without taking a side trip to points Q, V, and L.

**Shampoo:** Xi'an Pu of the Joketsuzoku Amazons of China. Pledged to kill female Ranma after Ranma defeated her in combat. Later discovered Ranma's curse, and revealed that, since he was actually a man, she was now honor bound to marry him, whether he wanted it or not. Fell into the Spring of Drowned Cat at some point, much to Ranma's regret as he had a severe case of Ailuraphobia.

**Kodachi Kunou:** Sister of Tatewaki, accomplished martial arts gymnast and poison expert. Infatuated with Ranma Saotome, and like her brother, completely oblivious to the fact that his cursed form was also him. Later formed the Church of Kodachi, or C-Ko. Widely considered insane, but wealthy enough to be reclassified as "eccentric."

**Cologne:** Khu Lon, 300-year-old elder matriarch of the Joketsuzoku and Shampoo's great grandmother. Came to Nerima to assist Shampoo in marrying Ranma. Well versed in martial arts techniques, magic, and mythology. Disappeared in 2004.

**Happosai:** Perverted elderly founder of the Anything-Goes School of Martial Arts, master of Soun Tendo and Genma Saotome. Responsible for unleashing the demon Chia (see below).

**Ukyou Kuonji**: Okonomiyaki chef and martial artist. Engaged to Ranma Saotome at age 6 by Genma in return for her father's okonomiyaki cart, which the elder Saotome promplty stole, leaving the young Ukyou behind. Ukyou would renounce all life as a female and train herself to take revenge on Ranma, tracking him to Furinkan High School. However, things changed when Ranma discovered she was actually female (Ranma had always thought Ukyou was boy when they were growing up), and managed to deflect Ukyou's anger by becoming the first person to ever call her cute. Ukyou renewed her claim on Ranma, and opened an Okonomiyaki shop in the business district of Nerima. And, as many know, she later destroyed half of the Nerima district completely unassisted. Wore ribbons in her hair, prior to the Hair Ribbon Ban of 2026.

---

"Gran? This Ukyou and Ryouga...are they?"

"Yes, Miko, they are."

"But if they were alive back in 1996, how can they be Granddad's...?"

"Keep reading. I'll fill in the details later."

---

Amidst all the plots, plans, challenges, and other odd events which seemed to plague the Tendo residence on a regular basis, one of Ranma's regular chores was keeping the perverted master Happosai in check. Happosai was addicted to women's underwears and waged a one man campaign of terror across Nerima. Ranma frequently spent time curbing the old man, usually quite violently.

It was after one particularly humiliating defeat that Happosai consulted an ancient scroll and used it to call forth a Demon called Chia. Ironically and sadly, as it turned out, Ranma's cursed form was identical to the girl once pledged to be Chia's bride.

Ranma fought the demon, and fought valiantly, but it wasn't enough. Ranma was killed, and the nature of Chia's magic was such that Ranma's soul took the place of that of the girl who had drowned in the Nyannichuan. The soul of the girl in the spring was released and joined Chia, laughing at the foolish mortals who had tried to defeat them. They disappeared, leaving Akane alone with Ranma's body.

The nature of the relationships in Ranma Saotome's life were so complex that they were not so much linear as a tapestry formed by the various links that everyone had to Ranma in some shape, way, or form. When Ranma was killed, the center of the tapestry was destroyed, and the threads began to unravel in such a way that it would mean a complete change to Tokyo, Japan, and the rest of the world, culminating in the rise of the Kunou Foundation and, as was revealed later, it's darker half, Onocorp.

And ultimately, the invasion of the Musk.

But just as nature abhors a vaccuum, so too did the tapestry of Ranma Saotome's life. Of the three fiancees that he had acquired, only one came from a culture that had extensive knowledge of magic. Only one would still be able to return to Jusenkyo to study and learn it's secrets.And only one would be able to live long enough to see her work come to fruition.

For on a cold, dark night in the fall of 2096, Shampoo managed to bring Ranma Saotome back from the dead...


	2. Zannen

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**ZANNEN**

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I beat him. Hard. Blow after blow I pounded on his blackened chest, each impact sending out large chunks of roasted flesh attached to molten silk. Once in a while, a rib of his would crack, or I would feel the pain as my own fingers shattered.

I didn't care.

With each new ache, I simply grit my teeth and yelled his name. It was HIS fault. How DARE he die? How DARE he leave me, when...

We'd been engaged!

It's true, we fought, and joked, and said we didn't want it, but at least on my part, I...

Throughout it all, a part of me had never really doubted that, when it came time, we would abide by our father's wishes, and be one, as man and wife. IT was with THAT security, THAT claim, that I fought and taunted him...

And he deserved it, too! The pervert... But... He was MY pervert. MINE to own, control, and WED. MY fiance. MY Ranma.

And he was no more.

That little lecher, Happosai, called forth a ghost, and just with that, he took away my happiness, my love, my LIFE!

A fifteen-hundred-year-old spirit came to seek his sweetheart, and found her in my fiance's female form. Without a thought to any joy but his, he blasted Ranma - no preamble, explanation. Just glared, and focused, and fired a beam which even Ryouga's Shishi Houkodan would pale by.

It hit.

I see it now, as I do almost every time I close my eyes - with perfect clarity, and in slow motion.

The concentrated beam moves on towards my fiance, and when he notices (too late) what is to come, he puts in front of him a forearm, in a futile, automatic gesture of defence.

The ki-blast strikes, and he's knocked back, twisting and pivoting in mid-air, until his body's parallel to the deadly rays. The energetic force propels him back, until he hits a wall.

It crumbles, and he dies.

I do not know, at first. I rush to him, pick up his head, and rest it in my arms, staring at his now-unmoving face.

The smell of charred meat mixes with the liquid of my salty tears and runs into my mouth, all senses striving to inform me of a fact that I will not accept.

And then, the ultimate in proof.

The corpse twitches, glows, and levitates a foot or two. I let it go, as it rises off the ground. Red ki-flames form, and shine, and coalesce into a luminescent five-foot form that rises from his waist, then disattaches itself from its previous link, and lets the body of my Ranma fall once more onto the gravel.

It's Ranma-chan. The dormant spirit trapped inside of him is finally awake, his last, involuntary sacrifice arousing her from cursed slumber. Jubilant, her image focuses, and she floats off to meet her loved one.

Chia.

I cannot take it. That he KILLED my... My Love... (I think it. NOW with difficulty; THEN it would have been impossible) is bad enough, but that he should be so rewarded for my misery - THAT'S unforgivable.

I charge. From where I'd knelt, I move into a crouch, and build elastic tension in my legs before I spring towards the ghost, pulling out my mallet so that I may drive him in a the ground, a nail to my affliction.

No such luck.

He stands, embracing the red-headed woman, and when he notice my dash, he merely frowns, then smiles, then laughs, and finally points a finger at me, sending out a miniaturised version of the blow that took out my beloved.

When I come to, the twain are gone. Whether they disappeared, or travelled off, or went to heaven or to hell, I'll never know. The only thing I'm sure of is that with their parting, the two ghosts took all our happiness, our joy, our future hopes, and left behind a pair of sombre, empty shells.

I hadn't told him. He had lived, and died, and never knew. I took for granted that we'd wed, that one day we'd be able to express...

That I'd be able to come out and...

What's the use? I knew it then, I know it now. The past is gone.

He's left, and I remain, and through the workings of my foolishness, and rage, and hatred, there is now no way that I can join him.

"Oh, that the Almighty had not fixed his canon 'gainst self-slaughter!" For once, Hinako's served me well.

Why'd I do it? Had I waited, I'd be with him now, not in this dismal park of memory... Instead, impatience, and regret, and anger took a hold of me. My dreams were gone, and someone had to pay.

First, Happosai. He was the obvious choice. That two-foot abnormality and his twisted tastes were at the root of all my woe.

That day, and night, and for how long? I don't remember... 'Til whenever I myself did end, I walked in living dreams. Nothing seemed real... My sisters, father, friends, would talk to me, and cry, and try to comfort me, and I would listen, nod, and say I understood, when in reality I seldom even knew what they had said.

Emotions ran too high within for consciousness to hold more than one thought, and at that time, that thought was clear, and purposeful:

Revenge.

The chosen night, when all the house had gone to sleep, I put my plan to work. Off went my habitual pyjamas (the yellow ones, with birds on them), and on came lingerie I'd never dared put on before... A towel over that - precautionary, just in case Kasumi or my dad should see me -then I stepped into the hall.

Where was it? There. I looked around, and quickly found the thing I sought. A 'keepsake' from Shampoo's last rendezvous with Ranma... I'd let her know her place.

All was prepared. The pervert's room was just a little ways away. I went up to the door, and knocked.

He was surprised. Who wouldn't be? For years, I'd pummelled any male who'd tried to date me, let alone lay hand upon my skin.

He gawked, and paused, and gulped, and stared as the towel fell to the floor. Trembling, he looked at me with questioning eyes. I beckoned.

A flash of movement, and the ancient ball of flesh jumped up and latched itself onto my bosom, burrowing its disgusting, wilted head between my breasts. I was repulsed, but thankful for the feeling. It made it that much easier.

My right hand reached into the panty's elastic lining, and took the shard of broken glass which I had placed there. Just a quick, one-second slice across the throat, and the late Master of the Anything-Goes School of Martial arts dropped to the floor.

"That one's for Ranma," I told the corpse.

That's when the shield began to break. Until now, ignorance had been my strength, and psychic disorientation my most trusted guide. The harsh reality of what I'd done, of what I had BECOME now sliced through my psychological defences, and shattered my emotional armour.

The pool of blood on the floor, the saliva on my chest... THOSE formed my 'pool of sorrow', the catalysts for the metamorphosis to follow... Their very REALNESS broke to me the facts that I'd delayed assimilation of.

What happened next is all confused... Heaven above has shown SOME kindness, and has hazed that period in my mind...

All I remember is a lot of running, panicking, and a pounding heart. The muscle's beating audibly against my sternum several times a second, as with trembling hands I... I...

Try to remember... Try to...

No use.

The next scene that I see is several hours later, at the Bridge.

The moon has set, the sun is not yet up, and by the starlight I can see the placid waters, little wave-crests idly moving across the surface of the river. I smooth my dress. In some unconscious, automatic fit, I chose this as my death-gown: pale pastels, yellow and sky-blue - a suit which often Ranma'd seen me in. It fit.

My brow was firm. I blanked my mind, except for thoughts of HIM, of ME, of life and loss, of happiness forgone... And finally...

I jumped.

The waters took me in their frigid grip... So often had this very liquid changed my fiance into the form that killed him! Now, it would change ME. I let the fluid penetrate my throat and nostrils, fill my lungs and stomach, weighting me down with added mass until I sank onto the bottom's silt, and onwards, to wherever Ranma was. I hoped.

Poetic justice, that the trigger for his curse would prove my own undoing, I had thought, but I had never counted on the consequences of the act.

So had the murders shaken me, that I had lost all faith in spirit, heavens, deities, and did not take into account the repercussions on my soul of self-extermination.

No sooner had my eyes gone black and my heart still, than I woke up anew and saw with ghostly clarity.

As I see now.

I'm cursed, but no Jusenkyo for me. I'm doomed to stay, and watch what's happened - all the grief and pain I've caused, and all the happiness and joy I've forfeited, forever knowing that I'll never join my dear beloved...

"Ranma..." I whisper, and slowly trace my fingers over his carved name on the marble monument.

It IS the anniversary of his death, and I have kept it without fail for over ninety years, despite the still-fresh pain.

"You knew him?" A voice from behind me. I thought I was alone here... Who? I turn around. It is a woman - young (though that doesn't mean a thing, as far as spirits go), with straight, blonde, shoulder-length hair and large green eyes. Her dress is rugged, and she looks at me with a sympathetic smile. I have not seen this ghost before.

"Who were you?" I ask her.

She smiles.

"Childra Jansen, at your service," is her reply, and she extends a fair-skinned hand. I look at it, and then at her.

"Go on," she says, "but slowly... You don't want to pass right through it."

I nod, and carefully, gradually, place my fingers atop hers.

They're warm.

I can feel a pulse, and the coursing of her living blood... She is ALIVE! But how... I look up quizzically.

She smiles again.

"I AM alive," she says, "but I can see ghosts."

"Why do you come to me?"

"I've studied you, and your period, and I'd like to know more from the source."

"What?"

"I'm a historian. I enjoy my major, and I like to get my information first-hand." A pause. "If you'll let me, I'd also like to be your friend. Akane."

A friend? I haven't had one in almost a hundred years...

I smile, and nod. This could prove interesting...

"If you'll talk, I'll listen. I promise," she says, and sits down on the marble bench beside me. I begin to cry.

How much have I lost, and for what little gain? How is it that single friendly face can stir me to such heights? There was once a time when I would fight off suitors, and could afford the luxury of scorning even he for whom I TRULY held affection. Now, however, things have changed. And much.

No longer does Revenge drive all my actions, and my thoughts.

Another feeling takes its place.

Zannen.

Zannen'Regret'


	3. Faithful Departed

FAITHFUL DEPARTED

by Mike Loader

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R2096 characters and situations used with permission. Takahashi's aren't.

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I like the cemetery, which I suppose might seem a bit ghoulish a thing to like. But I do. It's green, and the grass is lush, and most of all a girl can be alone with her thoughts there. In Nerima, that's hard to manage. Perhaps all of Japan's as crowded as this, but my corner of it seems more so than usual.

It's even crowded in the graveyard, but my companions there are all quiet. I talk to them from time to time... no, I'm not crazy. But you need to get your thoughts out in the open, you know? And they certainly can keep a secret.

There's one stone that I visit more than the others; because of the age, I suppose. 'Tendo Akane', and she was only two years older than me when she died, if the stone can be believed. Well, silly, of course it can. You don't find gravestones that lie, do you? I giggle a bit at that. Of course, she's really quite a bit older than me, but I seem to have her age fixed at 16.

How did she die, I wonder? I see her pining away for her lost love, leaping from a bridge to be with him in death... that's silly, I know, but it's the image I get. Probably because it's so romantic. In reality, she probably was in a car accident or had AIDS or some other horrible illness.

But because she's older than me, yet so close, comparatively, I talk to her a lot. She doesn't talk back, but that's one of her good points.

"Do you think Akito likes me?" I ask her.

It's possible, my mind answers. But is he really my type?

"Well, he's so cool. And he's cute."

Well, yes. But, I add, he's not very nice. Remember how he treated Tawamura? I frown a little. I hadn't really thought about it before. Taramura's an ugly geek.

Still, it wasn't very nice of him.

"He's mean," I finally tell the grass.

Do I really want someone who's cool because he's cruel? Of course not.

"You know," I tell Akane, "even if he does like me, I don't like him."

I feel satisfied, and dig my toes into the lush green grass. It's so peaceful here. My thoughts are clearer, away from the bustle and turmoil of the city.

We're the same age, but I bet she never had the problems I did. I mean, she only died. I think I'm in love.

So I came here again, with a good book and a thermos. It's getting to be a personal sort of thing. I know people would think I'm weird if they found out, but they won't. I've been sneaking up here ever since I was fourteen.

"Hi, Akane," I say, sitting down beside the stone. I read a bit in my book; it's the same one I read last time. I always take a book, begin reading it in the cemetery, and then stop reading it until I come back next time. So the whole book is read under the trees, on the green grass. I don't know why; maybe I just feel the need to have the same surroundings all the way through.

After getting through two chapters, I decide it's time to talk. "I don't know. I think I'm in love with Hiro."

Well, I mentally tell myself, there's very little think about it. I obviously am.

"He doesn't even know I exist!" I wail, kicking the turf in frustration.

I developed an interest in Karate a year ago, out of the blue, and it's kept me in good condition; my blow mars the clean earth a bit. I think about what I've just said. He does know I exist, actually. He just doesn't talk to me much, and when he does its always awkward.

"He hates me," I tell the stone dejectedly.

But, I tell myself, he doesn't act like it, does he?

"Sure he does. He gets all embarrassed, and he stumbles a bit, and he's real uncomfortable..."

Just like you.

I gasp. "Oh, Akane! What if he likes me back?"

It certainly seems possible. I think perhaps it might be true. If it's not, well, that's not the end of the world. Yes it would be! I think I'd throw myself into the river if he doesn't like me...

An image of chill cold and burning lungs rushes through my mind with unnatural clarity, and I shudder. Okay, maybe not that far.

I feel a bit depressed. My brain brings back to mind the wonderful possibility that he might actually like me, and I let it lift my spirits out of the clammy depths.

"I think he does like me! Yatta! But don't tell."

I wonder if she went to Furinkan? I'm weird, I know.

I lean back and bask in the sun, reading another chapter of the book. It's so green and bright here, and I always enjoy the warmth far more than when I'm anywhere else.

Well, by my old standard, she's two years younger than me. But she's been in the earth so long... I see her as older than me, still. But not by much.

I cry a bit more. That's another nice thing about having a dead person as your confidant. You don't have to be self- conscious about your appearance.

The book lies on the grass, unopened. I'm too upset to read.

"We broke up, Akane," I finally say. "We had a fight."

I briefly feel sorry for myself, and sniffle a little.

"He was making eyes at Yuri, and so I yelled at him, and he yelled back, and we got mad, and I told him that I never wanted to see him again, and he said that was fine with him..." I'm really crying now. It hadn't hurt this much when I told him.

Had he really been ogling Yuri? I replay my memory. Yes, he was looking at her tits from across the room. I can't compete with that, I'm so flat-chested... well, no, I'm not, actually. Weird, why would I think...

Yuri. Yes, he really had been looking at her. But I looked at Furata last week. Remember, looking at those abs and drooling?

"Yes," I say aloud, "but that's different."

Only because Hiro hadn't seen me, I admit to myself. Had I perhaps been a little too harsh?

"I was awfully mean to him."

Yes, I had been.

"And now it's too late."

But wait, it isn't! I could go to him and apologize, tell him I'd been stupid and jealous, admit that I had been wrong...

"I can't do that!" I wail. It would be so humiliating. I couldn't... I am suddenly terribly angry, furious, livid with myself. How stupid! How petty! How can I let a silly thing like this wreck love? How can pride and jealousy hold that back? How? Stupid! Gone, and I never told him! I never...

Told him? Huh? Oh, right, told him that I was sorry. I will tomorrow, I will. It's going to be really embarrassing... who cares! Embarrassment is nothing.

A wave of relief at my decision hits me with almost physical force. I manage a smile, and lean back, watching the branches of the trees flicker against the sun. I have a tournament coming up in two weeks. I know I'll win. I must be a natural, because I knew how to perform a lot of the katas without even being told.

"I'm turning into a real tomboy," I chuckle. A bit of melancholy steals over me, but not much. The peace here is wonderful. Things fall into place, into perspective. I need the quiet, and the time to let myself think and bask in the warm sun. Thoughts flow into my head here, almost as if they weren't mine at all. But of course they are.

I walk quickly past my private spot, Hiro supporting me, little Kasumi tagging along behind. I don't know if I still think of Akane as older than me. 37 is a long way from 16.

I still go there, to get away from the din, to find my peace and my answers. I wish I could go there now, but Hiro would worry if his wife went off to sit by a grave after just burying her mother.

I'd worry too, except I read somewhere that people often have things they talk to. Like a dog, or a diary, or a cat, or a little pig... there's an odd thought. I glance quickly at the shaded stone, and tell myself to come back on the weekend, when Hiro is busy. I can unburden myself then. I can sort through Mother's death, and think about little Kasumi, and the things Hiro and I did this week.

You need to talk to someone. I know I've had a good life, and I need to unburden myself. It is strange, but the sunlight seems so much warmer, so much more significant here... it suddenly feels like such a privilege, a treat, to lie in it and rest. It makes me sleepy, as well; my mind drifts, and it almost feels as though I'm someone else. Once or twice, I have found my memory playing on faces and things I do not know. It has almost frightened me, but the fear is beaten down and choked by the enjoyment I suddenly take in simple things. So peaceful. Such warm sun.

I watch as they lower my husband into the earth, watch Togi and Kasumi cry. I daub at my eyes, but I'm not really that sad. We had 67 years. That's a long time.

I don't think I'll be around much longer myself. That's okay. Always I've come here to rest. The last time will be no great change.

After the funeral, I tell the children, who are not children anymore, that I want to be alone with Hiro. They understand, and leave.

I nod to my husband, and walk over to Akane's stone. Such a thing! That someone who died before ever I knew her has been so steadfast!

"He's dead, Akane," I say. "I knew it would happen soon."

How do I feel about it? I ask myself. It is strange that I am so intropective here, and nowhere else.

It was a mercy, really. He could no longer do the things he liked. And we had years... we had so many years, and moments, and we grew together. And we have the children, of course.

"I'll be joining him soon," I tell the stone, and feel a bit sad. But not much. I hope I'll join him. I hope, yes, I hope. I don't see how I couldn't. It would be a cheat not to finally be with Ra... with Hiro. How odd. I am old. My mind fastens upon these things. Look, there is the reason, I was looking at that stone there.

Saotome Ranma. And he died about the same time as Akane. How curious! Why have I never noticed this? I know I have seen that inscription before, and been intrigued, and...

My curiosity drains away. I think of the children, and their children, and I gingerly lower myself to the lush green grass. Such a thing, to be old!

I bask in the warm, warm sun with a desperate enjoyment, my mind retreating as it does more and more when I come here. It is as though I am not me at all. I never had such a terrible longing to feel the sun warm my skin, to feel the wind, to dig my toes in the grass. I won't be able to, soon, and it is so good.

They toss in the earth, and I sit up. I am 24.

I drift out of the hole, leaving the old shell that I was. I am vaguely sorry that Kasumi and Togi are so sad. And I'm curious. What now?

Ah, ah, Hiro! Hiro! There he is!

He comes to me, 22 and full of youth and vigor, and takes my hand. We don't need to speak. We never did.

From under a shaded tree, then, I see her. I had arranged that my grave be beside hers, arranged with a urgency that came from nowhere. She looks as I knew she would. Somehow, I know her.

Hiro kisses me, and the graveyard begins to fade. Somewhere beyond, there is warm sun and peace and green grass, and we will be there together, he and I.

I wish I had not seen her. I wish there were only well-wishes in that look she gives me. But I know now things I did not, and only a saint would not have that despairing, envious, hateful, ugly part of that gaze from where she stands. She is not a saint. She is not me, either, and it is hurting her to finally be forced to realize this.

I wrap myself into Hiro, and as the world fades I hope my friend will visit me, finally content. For part of that awful look was glad that I was happy, and that, after all, is what defines a friend.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

This graveyard hides a million secrets

The trees know more than they can tell

The ghosts of the saints and artists will haunt you

In Heaven and in Hell

Look over your shoulder, hear the schoolbell ring

Another day of made-to-measure history

I don't care if your heroes have wings

Your terrible beauty's been torn

You're a history book I never could write

Poetry in paralysis, too deep to recite

Dress yourself, caress yourself, you've won the fight

We're going to celebrate tonight

We'll even climb the pillar (like we always meant to)

Watch the sun rise over the strand

Close our eyes and we'll pretend

It could somehow be the same again

I'll bury you upright so the sun doesn't blind you

You won't have to gaze at the rain and the stars

Faithful departed, there's no brokenhearted

And no more distress in your world without end.

- Philip Chevron

END FAITHFUL DEPARTED


	4. Ashita no Yume

ASHITA NO YUME

"Dreams of Tomorrow"

by Jeffrey Paul Hosmer

------------------------------------------------------------------------

R2096 characters and situations used with permission. Takahashi's aren't.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

She lay on the bed, dreaming.

There's no time for this, she scolded herself gently. I have to get up. There's always work to do. If I don't do it, who will?

With an effort, Kasumi opened her eyes. She threw off her covers and swung her feet around, uttering a small eep as they touched the cold floor. She wanted nothing more than to go back to bed, and cuddle next to her nice warm husband--

Husband?

Kasumi looked over her bed and yes, her husband was there. Of course he was. Dear Tofu-chan. Bell-chan was in her room, still asleep, no doubt. She had not gone to bed until late, she was so excited about today.

That's right! Kasumi thought. The family beach trip! I have to make sure everything is ready.

Hesitantly, she walked out to the kitchen. She had forgotten something, she knew. It was nagging at her, but resisted all her attempts to recall it. Finally, she shrugged. If it really was important, she would remember it sooner or later.

Soon, the miso soup was on for breakfast and she could spare a few moments to get dressed and ready for the day. Everyone would be coming. It would be so nice to see the family again. And all of their friends. It was surprising that they could all make it.

Kasumi turned as she heard a gentle footstep on the stairs. Tofu-chan flashed her a smile as he stepped into the kitchen, then turned toward the front doors to go and collect the morning paper.

Stairs? She hadn't come down--well, of course there were stairs. She lived above the clinic now. It was back at the dojo where her room was on the ground floor. She must really be sleepy.

She smiled more brightly as she heard Tofu greeting someone at the door. Moments later, the Hibikis walked in, Ukyou and Ryouga holding hands while Kioku followed. They all said good morning, and Ukyou presented a big picnic basket partly full of okonomiyaki.

"How nice, Ukyou-chan! You didn't have to go to all that trouble," she said. Ukyou merely nodded and sat down at the table, adjusting her straitjacket--

No, she was just wearing her okonomiyaki outfit. Really, why would Ukyou be in a straitjacket?

Kasumi shook her head. She was really full of foolish notions today. Well, she'd talk to Tofu-chan about it later. She had chores to do.

Soon, her delicious food was filling the basket, next to the okonomiyaki. Ukyou had written something on them, she saw with a smile that turned to a puzzled frown. 'Boom'? What could that mean? Again, she felt the nagging suspicion that she had forgotten something.

"Oneechan!" came the call, followed shortly by Nabiki and Kunou.

Oh, my, Kunou certainly has matured since all the trouble he had caused back in high school, Kasumi thought.

He looked very handsome in the dark business suit Nabiki had made him wear. It was almost like he was attending a funeral, though. The Kunous were followed by Kodachi, who offered her a bouquet of red roses.. Kasumi smiled and put them into some water, then looked at them again and frowned. They were dying already, turning black. How unlike Kodachi, she was so good with plants. She turned to the female Kunou, who only gave her a sad, despairing look. A look that said, 'I tried to keep them alive, but...'

The group was almost complete, Kasumi thought with a smile, banishing the gloomy thought. Everyone was sitting around the table, talking quietly. So quietly, Kasumi couldn't even make out the words. But they were there, her family, both close and extended.

"Kasumi-oneechan!" came the voice she had been waiting years to hear again. No, surely only hours - days at most. Saotome Akane entered, smiling sadly at her big sister. She was followed by Ranma, who was struggling to keep a hold on their twins. What were their names again? Kasumi was shocked that she couldn't remember. Well, it would come to her.

The group got ready to leave then, everyone heading for the beach.

They stepped out and Kasumi locked the door. Akane stood close by, watching her quietly. Kasumi smiled at her little sister, happy to see her. Akane returned the smile a little hesitantly.

"Hey, wait for us!" a very familiar female voice called. Kasumi turned in shock.

"Okaasan," she whispered, as her mother and father walked up.

"Surely you weren't leaving without your parents," Tendo Soun asked, his eyes twinkling.

"No, of course not..." Kasumi said. Why was she acting like this?

Of course her mother would be here. They were a family, weren't they? All together, all happy, and with a glorious future ahead of them.

Happily, she walked alongside her husband, her family and friends following her. Then Tofu-chan stopped.

Oh, it was his assistant, Gosunkugi Kyoofu.

"Good morning, Doctor, Ono-san," he said, smiling and bowing courteously. Everyone else except for Tofu-chan and Belladonna seemed to fade into the background. The nagging feeling returned, stronger than ever.

"Ohayo," Kasumi replied.

"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting, but I was hoping that you were done with those disks I left you. I need to get them back before your sister misses them."

Of course, the disks. Kasumi smiled. She had been disturbed at first when Nabiki began to pressure them to sell their home. Of course they had refused. It was more than just a building to them. It was where they had met and fallen in love. Bell-chan had been born there.

Hadn't Tofu-chan been so funny, panicking as she did all the work to bring Bell-chan into the world. It had been a natural childbirth and Kasumi had been so proud of her little girl. She hoped that one day Nabiki would know the same joys.

But she had underestimated her little sister, and Tofu-chan's nice assistant had cleared it all up. Nabiki had been planning all along to create a new shopping and living complex, all in honour of Akane and Ranma. Wasn't that sweet? And Gosunkugi had even risked his job to bring them the files Nabiki had put together, planning it all out in strict detail. Nabiki was so lucky to have such an employee. How did he manage to do all of that?

Once that was explained, Kasumi understood why her sister was pushing for them to sell so urgently. Just like Nabiki-chan, never wanting to look 'soft.' She and Tofu-chan had discussed it and were willing, for Akane and Ranma's memory, to sell their home.

"Oh, of course. They're at the house. I'll get them," she said.

"Oh, no need," Kyoofu replied. "I can get them, if you just let me borrow a key."

He was a friend of Tofu-chan, but she couldn't let him put himself out like that. "No, no... just wait here. I'll do it." She turned to her husband. "Tofu-chan, you and Bell-chan wait for me at the train station. I'll be right back."

She turned back home. Strange, where did everyone go? Suddenly, it was just her, walking back home. She didn't even feel in control of her own body any more, like she HAD to walk this path. She got back to the clinic and started to open the door.

"Oneechan! Don't!"

It was Akane. She must have fallen in a puddle or something, Kasumi thought. Her dress was dripping wet. It was soaked, through and through, actually, she thought. Just as if she had been pulled from the riv-

"Oneechan," Akane pleaded. "Come back. We can all go the beach, all of us. We can have a happy future, just like we were supposed to. Don't go in there!"

Suddenly, everyone was standing behind Akane. Father and Mother, Ranma, Nabiki and Tofu-chan, Ryouga and Ukyou. Even Shampoo and Mousse had arrived somehow. They beckoned to her.

Kasumi shook her head. Something was wrong. She opened her mouth, but the words that came out were not what she meant to say.

"Akane-chan, some dreams are not meant to be."

She stepped into the clinic.

**Epilogue**

Akane screamed as she fell out of her sister.

She couldn't live through the memory again. Kasumi's memory. The memory of being burned alive, then buried in rubble. The ghost wept aloud at the thought, even though there was no one to hear her.

Sitting up on the cold hospital floor, she forced herself to look at the burned and broken body that was her eldest sister. She couldn't see much, with all the bandages and machines Tofu-sensei had insisted they use. The man was almost insane with grief, pushing his medical knowledge, and the knowledge of others to the brink to heal his wife.

And Akane had watched it all.

Finally, unable to bear the thought of her sister suffering, she had tried to possess her, her own sister, and give her happy dreams, at least. It hadn't worked. Kasumi was too strong-willed and perceptive. She had seen through the deception in the end.

"Why? Why you, oneechan?" the ghost sobbed. "You can't die! You can't! I need you!"

The living paid her no mind, of course. She was a ghost, doomed to walk the earth because of her sins. It was her punishment, and she deserved it. To be alone--

If Kasumi died, she might not be alone. She could be with oneechan forever.

No! Kasumi was going to live, she was going to get better, and when she died, she was going to go some place happy.

But what if...?

Akane's thoughts were cut short by her niece entering the room. Bell-chan, Kasumi's perfect daughter. Akane ached to comfort her, to soothe her, like an aunt should. And Bell-chan had been crying. Her eyes were red and puffy, her hair was a mess, and her steps uncertain. Slowly, she walked to her mother's bedside. She stared at her mother for a long time, her thoughts her own. She then opened her purse.

And pulled out a large hypodermic needle.

The End


	5. Echoes

A man walked through the wreckage, elbowing his way past the crowd of workmen on the periphery of the site. It'd been quite a blast. Over a week of work, and all they'd really been able to do was rescue a lone victim in time to put her into the ICU of the local hospital. Considering the instability of the place, it was a wonder that one of the demolition crew wasn't there, as well...

Thankfully, most of the curious onlookers that had prevented them working earlier were gone, the police were finished with their investigation, and if all went well, they'd have the place secure enough to place the dynamite within the next twenty-four hours.

He hugged his clipboard to his side and clambered over a few large fragments of concrete as he began his investigation.

---------------------------------------------------------------

**ECHOES**

A Ranma 2096 side story

written by Rui D. Madeira 

Edited by 4cw6

A Sleep Deprived Production

Ranma 2096 characters and situations used with permission.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Yoshi took a long look at the damaged building. According to his records the place had been a dojo before the explosion, although it hadn't been open in years. Now, all that remained was the burnt wreck of the training hall and crater where the house had been. The initial blast had flattened most of the neighbourhood and set fire to everything else, but for reasons nobody understood, part of the training hall had survived. The two walls that had been perpendicular to the house were still upright and still connected to each other by the charred remainder of one of the cross beams that had supported the roof. For some reason, the sight of the ruin brought to mind the image of a gate or a portal, such as those one found at the entrance to temple. That image stuck in his mind as he continued to stare at the remains.

-Amazing,- he thought. -That's supposed to be the centre of the blast, yet that damn thing is still standing. Who ever built it sure knew what they were doing.- 

He started walking towards the wreck, taking care to avoid the pit. As he got closer, he noticed a girl sitting atop the rubble of the outer wall and staring at the building. I thought all the kids would've had their fill by now... He altered course and walked over to her, but she ignored him.

"Hey, you! what are you doing here? This is a restricted area."

The girl looked up at him, startled. She must have really been out of it. He had made enough noise to wake the dead, yet she failed to even notice his approach. Strange...

"Well, what are you doing here?"

Apart from the portal, everything on the site was unstable. He'd been at this for years, and even he was having trouble with his footing... If she didn't get out of there soon, something was going to give, and when it did...

She glanced around from left to right, then snapped her head to face him. After only an instant's hesitation, the look of surprise on her face was replaced by one of cautious, contented weariness. She smiled somewhat, but her eyes were sad and a heavy air hung over her.

"Uh, nothing really... Just taking a look at the place." Then, more softly, "A last look."

"You... Uh... Know the place?"

"Hai. It brings back memories." She fidgeted with her fingers, and glanced anxiously about her. Probably never expected to be caught, since even the workmen stayed away from THIS part of the wreckage. Yoshi grabbed a protruding iron bar and swung onto a solid-looking pile of rubble next to her. Neighbourhood kid or not, she had no business here. Deity knew that Tokyo was filled with empty buildings children played in; heck, he himself fondly remembered hide-and-seek in the ruins of the Mammoth Hotel, but when they were gone...

He took a look at the girl. She was probably in her mid to late teens, yet something in her face made her seem older... Probably grief. Females tended to be sentimental over the silliest things... Then again, who's to say he wouldn't cry over a building, too, if he couldn't... He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. Something about her just... Didn't seem right... The clothes, perhaps? That must be it...

She seemed too old to be wearing that kind of pre-teen fashion. Her dress was knee-length, pastel blue with soft yellow accents, and a sky-blue diadem kept her close-cropped black hair in place, just like a toddler decked for a Sunday stroll in the park. Her posture, too, just didn't seem to go... She sat hunched forward, elbows on knees and head supported by both hands.

Yoshi cleared his throat.

"You shouldn't have come here," he said. "This place has been declared a disaster area, and with good reason." He tapped a nearby piece of wood with his clipboard, and gestured at it as it fell to the ground, taking several other fragments with it. "What do think your parents would say if they found out you came here? I doubt they'd be very happy."

She turned away from him, to look back at the ruin.

"They wouldn't say much," she mumbled.

"I'm sorry?"

"They're dead."

Ah. So it wasn't just a playpen she was mourning for.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he was. Right then, he felt about an inch tall. "They... Died in the blast?"

A pause. She continued staring at the site, not bothering to face him.

"No," she finally admitted. "They died a long time ago."

He sat down near her and turned his attention towards the wreckage, his his clipboard beside him, forgotten.

"Why come stare at this mess, then? Did your family-"

As he stared at the wreckage, an image began to faded into view.

"I... I lived here... WE lived here..."

He looked around the area, taking in the details as they shimmered briefly into view in the fashion with which he'd grown so familiar. The image was quite vivid, more so than those of the surrounding neighbourhood.

"Looks like it used to be a nice place," he said casually.

The girl sat up and gave him a questioning glance. It was Yoshi's turn to get even with Lady Mystery. He ignored her unvoiced query and continued with his examination.

"Even with the house and the hall there's still quite a bit of free space. Not to many places have this much. The carp pond was a nice touch as well. I wouldn't mind having one myself, but there's no room."

The girl's eyes, which had widened in amazement, now also held a touch of... Not fear, which was how everyone else seemed to greet his rantings, but... Hope? Delight?

Her smile widened, and he could have sworn her face literally lit up as she looked first at him, then at where the pond was. Or rather, where the pond should have been. It had been filled by debris from the house and the wall surrounding the property, and now appeared only as a slight depression in the ground.

"How did you know all that?" She clasped her hands in front of her.

"It's a gift," he explained, still a bit put off by her reaction. "For some reason, people in my family have always been able to see things no one else could."

He stared at her, but she just smiled back at him. Yoshi shrugged and turned back to look the house.

"Strange, I know, but that's the way it is. Grandpa was able to see all sorts of things, while pop seems only to be able to see things imperfectly. Me, the only thing I ever seem to see are dead objects."

Now she paled.

"Dead objects? How can something that's not alive die? It... Can't leave a ghost! It doesn't have any unf... It's impossible!"

"It's not so much that they're ghosts as they are echoes from the past. When you go into house that no one's living in, it seems to be dead, but go into a house where people live and you'll notice that it feels lived in. When the house gets knocked down, that feeling tends to hang around before fading. The longer the place has been lived in, the longer it takes to leave. I know of one building that was over a hundred years old when we demolished it. That was more than seven months ago, yet when I pass by the place I can still see it. Same thing with this place."

"Oh." The girl seemed pacified by his response. "No... People? Living things?" Yoshi shook his head. "Then... Can you... See anything else? Can you tell me anything more about it? It... It would mean a lot to me."

Without answering, he focused on the building, and smiled as the images formed. The training hall had been solidly constructed, in the good old Tokyo fashion, but... Yoshi squinted at the scene. Pieces of the house and dojo seemed to flicker in and out of existence...

"Since it was demolished so recently I can see the images pretty clearly. Some rice-paper screens, shogi board on the porch, and... Wooden stairs inside, I think... To be honest you'd think the place would've fallen down long before now, given the way things had been patched up. The students around here must've been real brutes." He turned from the scene as the blinking sections of the construction began to give him a headache. "What I'd like to know," he moaned, "is how they made the holes in the roof! There must be a MILLION of them!"

He looked over at the girl and noticed that she was blushing.

"Something wrong?" A pause. "You told me to say more, I'm sorry if I..."

"No, it's all right," she started to put her hand on his, then drew it back sharply. "Uh, I'm... sort of... responsible for those holes. Well...Some of the smaller ones, that is."

"You're joking! What ever possessed you to punch holes in the wall?"

The girl swung her head towards the wreckage once more. Her lips straightened into a narrow line, and the area around her eyes tightened.

He seemed to have hit a nerve.

"I kind of... Got into a lot of fights with my fiancee," she intoned. "He'd say something insulting, I'd try to get him back, then he'd duck, and I'd miss him and hit something else. I'd get him in the end, but we tended to cause a lot of damage." She lowered her head along with her voice. "We didn't get along too well."

"No kidding. The guy sounds like a real jerk. Your fiancee, eh? Why did you ever agree to marry him?"

"It was arranged by our fathers when we were born."

"Talk about old-fashioned. So now, thanks to your father you're going to get stuck with someone you can't get along with? You should really try and get him to drop it if all you two do is fight, or you could end up being sorry." The girl's expression hardened, and she flinched at his every word. "Hey, what's the matter?" he asked, but she only stood and prepared to run off. That was bad. If she tried to bolt from the unstable pile...

He held out his arms to her. "Hold on a sec..."

She did, but only to look down on him from her full height. Her face was firm, and her cheeks were aglow with luminescent tears.

-That girl... She's not... Oh, deity...- 

"Like I said," she spoke, in a surprisingly crisp voice, "I came here for one LAST look."

Even as he reached out to her, frozen in that posture from amazement and surprise, she sunk down into the wood, concrete and steel, leaving no trace of her presence.

It seemed his talent saw far more than he had thought.

How many of the people that he'd met once, and had never seen again, how many of the people that had wrung their hands and looked at him wild-eyed when he waved to them had been... Had been ghosts?

Yoshi took his clipboard from where he'd laid it and prepared to climb back down, never taking his eyes off the impromptu pedestal where the spirit had sat.

"How goes the survey?" A female voice... Could it be?

He spun around and almost fell, his line of sight falling on a young woman with long, brown hair and sad brown eyes.

"Ono Belladonna," she said in a business-like fashion. "I'm the daughter of the victim."

"I... Ah..." He took her proffered hand and with her help went back to ground level. "Just call me Yoshi. Everyone does."

"Are you going to be able to... Dynamite soon?"

"Yep. Hope to have it done within the week." Understandably, his mind wasn't on the job right now. There were a few things he'd have to talk over with his father. He had a feeling there'd been something kept from him, and he wanted to know why.

"What about the police? I thought they were going to search the site for evidence."

"They're done," he said. "They said they have all they need, but it's not like they'll tell US anything."

"You have... No idea what caused this?"

"First impression was a gas leak, but since the place has been deserted..." What HAD happened? The thought drew him back from his daydreams. "I guess... I guess I'd have to say it was a bomb; I can't think of anything else that-"

"A bomb? You're sure?"

"Well, I can't be sure, but..."

"But?"

"Look at the place," he waved around him. "Too many bits of everything, too little left intact... Keep your eyes peeled. I'm as curious as anyone else, but if the cops clam up and they say they're done, your best bet is the six-o'clock news a week or two from now."

"You... Don't think this was an accident?"

He paused, and thought. For about three seconds.

"To be honest, I can't see how." Belladonna frowned. Oops... That's right... "Ah... How's your mother?"

"She... Lives."

"Glad to hear it..." That means that the girl I saw wasn't... But then... 

She clenched her fists at her sides and looked intently at the wreckage, ignoring him. Her brow was furrowed and her eyes gleamed viciously while a cool evening breeze lifted the bottom of her gray dress.

So young, and yet so full of ha-

"Belladonna. We must go. The doctors are waiting for us."

A middle-aged man had walked up while he was deep in thought, and now stood beside the young woman. His light-brown hair was tied back in a pony-tail which fell over the back of his black suit, and though it was dark, he wore thick sunglasses, presumably to hide tears. Her father?

"Hai, otoosan."

Her father.

The elder Ono put his arm around his daughter, and she embraced it. Without a further word, he led her off back the way he had come. Yoshi stood watching as they walk off, and were soon lost from sight behind a pile of debris.

A shrill whistle broke him from his reverie. Quitting time. The other workmen would be getting ready to leave, and he should too if he wanted to file the report by morning.

After that, he'd be able to rest for a few days, maybe a week, deity knew he could use the time to think things over...

But before then...

He turned his head to face the portal, the three beams that were so miraculously intact.

He felt compelled to look at it.

One last time.

----------------------------

The vilest deeds like poison weeds

Bloom well in prison air:

It is only what is good in man

That wastes and withers there:

Pale Anguish keeps the heavy gate

And the Warder is Despair

- Oscar Wilde, The Ballad Of Reading Gaol

Fate sits on these battlements and frowns,

And as the portal opens to receive me,

A voice in hollow murmurs through the courts

Tells of a nameless deed.

Ann Radcliffe, The Mysteries Of Udolpho

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	6. Spiral

**SPIRAL**

by Jason L. 'Jai-kun' Langlois

Edited by 4cw6

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

R2096 characters and situations used with permission. Takahashi's aren't.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kuonji Ukyou stared down at the darkened streets of Nerima. She hadn't had a customer in the three weeks since the... she didn't want to think about it. Too much had changed since that time. The Kunous were never out of that mansion of theirs, Shampoo, Mousse, and Cologne had gone off to China (Shampoo did have to be sedated and in cat-form before they left), and Ryouga was no where to be seen, as usual. She felt for him the most. He probably hadn't even heard the news...

She forced her mind away from that subject, only to have it turn directly to the Tendos. She hadn't seen them since... for a very long time. But that wasn't exactly true. Kasumi had come a week and a half ago to "see if Ukyou was OK." But to Ukyou, she had seemed... harder. Oh, she was still Kasumi, still as kind and gentle as ever, but it was almost as if instead of it being the driving force behind her, it was now a shield to protect her. Her eyes had lost the spark that made her kindness nourishing. Even so, Ukyou had been happy to see her. No one else had visited her since... for days.

Kasumi said she had been checking on all of Ranma and Akane's 'friends' to let them know that the Tendo family was available if they had needed anything, But something in her eyes had betrayed itself to Ukyou.

Although she didn't know it, she asked the one question no one in their grief had thought to ask Kasumi.

"Kasumi... are you OK?"

Kasumi stopped then from going out the door. One hand braced her on the door frame while the other flew up to her mouth. Her body, which had been stiff when she came in, began to shake violently as a muffled sob escaped from the confines of her hand. Ukyou walked over and embraced Kasumi, who began to shake all the harder. For a while, there were only heart-wrenched sobs to break the silence. Then, from out of nowhere, one phrase cut through.

"It's all my fault, Ukyou..."

Ukyou's eyes went wide with unparalleled shock. She gently pushed Kasumi up to try to look into the eyes that were now avoiding her own.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, somewhat louder than she had planned. Kasumi didn't flinch.

"It's all my fault." She was calm and collected, as if reciting facts from a book. "If I'd been there for her, if I'd seen the signs, maybe..." She trailed off, tears still flowing down her now stonily passive face. "I wasn't there for her, Ukyou!"

Ukyou took Kasumi's face in her hands. "Listen to me, Kasumi," she said as firmly as her shaking voice would allow, "what Akane did was not your fault. None of us saw what she was going through." Ukyou could see Kasumi's recaptured calm beginning to break again. Something inside of her told her to keep pushing. "Akane didn't reach out to us, she kept her anger inside. That anger is what killed her. Not you, not me, her anger. That's what drove her to do those horrible things, got that?"

Ukyou was nearly hysterical herself, and forced her calm facade back onto her face. Kasumi was crying, holding to Ukyou for dear life. "It's just so hard!"

Ukyou stroked her hair. "I know, honey, but we have to be strong. It's okay to be sad, and it's okay to grieve, but we cannot blame ourselves. It's what they both would have wanted."

Kasumi nodded, and wiped her eyes, and gave Ukyou another long hug.

"Thank you, Ukyou. I think... I think I needed to hear that." Ukyou smiled and walked Kasumi to the door. But her words, the words that had comforted Kasumi so much, haunted her thoughts for the rest of the night. They plagued her the following week, and they drove her to tears now as easily as before.

-It's what they both would have wanted.-

The words broke through the barrier she had erected in the last week, for fear her sanity would give way under her like sand in the desert.

-...they both would have...-

The memory, too long held at bay, struck her with snarling vengeance.

Ran-chan was gone. Taken from her by someone she hadn't even seen.

And to make matters worse, it was a ghost that killed him. Not a creature she could hunt down, not a person she could seek vengeance on. A ghost.

Akane had explained it all in graphic detail, in a cold, quiet voice that should have warned Ukyou of what was to come. In that respect, the ghost hadn't just taken her Ran-chan, it had taken her best friend. The only real friend she felt she had since she had come to Nerima. Akane had jumped off of a bridge on the day of the funeral, after having killed... No. Ukyou refused to dishonour her friend's memory by associating those acts with her. Akane's words flowed through Ukyou's mind like ghosts, salting the wound these memories had viciously re-opened. 

_"He laughed at me, Ukyou. He took my soul away, destroyed all my chances at happiness, and then he laughed at me."_

Tears splashed down on her clothing, as they had for many days now, until she had been afraid she would dry up and blow away.

This time she let them come, didn't try to wipe them away or force them back into her eyes. She didn't sob, she just let the tears flow. Then, she heard the scream.

It started low, barely audible, and welled up in both volume and pitch until it seemed it was in her very backyard. She raced down the stairs and almost out the front door to investigate, but the sounds of struggle and wood breaking from her training area halted her. It was in her backyard. She crouched and scuttled toward the door, and the cries of anguish made themselves clearer as the crunch sound of her targets being ripped apart began to subside. She was almost at the door, and the sound almost abated, when a heavy, screamed "NOOOOOOOOO!" pierced the air, and the battle resumed. Suddenly, she knew who the assailant was.

She ran outside and saw the imposing, flaming figure striking out at whatever was in reach. Breath filled her lungs, and she steeled herself for confrontation.

"RYOUGA!"

The crazed, desperate eyes of Hibiki Ryouga practically struck Ukyou, as if they themselves held the power of a ki-blast. She stepped back involuntarily as he stumbled toward her, worn out from whatever demons he had battled, both here and wherever he had come from. Tears flowed down his face, and for a moment Ukyou felt for him. His raspy voice barely touched her ears.

"Akane's dead."

She nodded slowly, not wanting to entice him to release a ki-blast. The battle aura surrounding him already threatened to tear up half of Tokyo. She could feel the heat from him as a palpable force, cause sweat to form unbidden on her brow. Then she felt the heat rise.

"Where is he?" he rasped, the repeated, louder, "WHERE IS HE?"

When Ukyou shook her head, he lunged toward her, stopping only when he was inches from her face. "WHERE'S RANMA? WHY COULDN'T HE PROTECT HER? I'LL KILL THAT BASTARD WITH MY BARE HANDS!"

Ukyou's eyes narrowed in fury.

"How dare you?" Her hand reached back, and she slapped Ryouga for all she was worth. Her hand burned, both from the contact and the ki energy boiling from his body. "YOU JACKASS! Ranma's DEAD, and all you can worry about is your VENGEANCE?" She began to beat hard on his chest. "You BASTARD! He's the reason Akane-..."

She was halted by the horrified look in his eyes.

"H- he's... Ranma's... Oh my god..." He sank to the ground and began to weep with utter abandon. His ki energy abated, drained by the lack of anger needed to focus it's manifestation. He sunk to his knees as tears streamed down his face, and looked up at Ukyou. "H-how?"

She shook her head, her own tears and racking sobs forcing any answer back the way it would have come. She, too, fell to her knees and hugged Ryouga as he wept. Together, the shared pain became less, and the night seemed, if not welcome, then bearable.

Ukyou stood in a dark void, shapes blurred unrecognisably. Her heart beat in anticipation of what she knew she was about to see. She didn't know how she knew, but she did know she was terrified of it, and tried to block it out by squeezing her eyes shut. The images remained, actually growing clearer, and her blood ran cold inside her.

-I've been here before. This is... This is where...- 

As if responding to her, the image sharpened terrifyingly fast, and she saw the events of that dreadful October night in brutal clarity. Akane and Ranma were crouched low, in balanced fighting stances, Ranma shouting defiantly at a glowing, translucent shape before them. Ukyou ran toward them, shouting at them to run, to get away! As always, as she knew would happen, her friends didn't hear her. But the ghost did, and that was a surprise to Ukyou.

It looked at her.

It recognised her, stopping her flight with his look alone.

It grinned evilly at her.

With an upward gesture from the spirit, Ranma was lifted off the ground, red energy tearing at his body. He screamed in pain and terror, echoed by Akane. Ukyou was too stunned to scream.

The body slammed to the ground, unmoving. Akane screamed his name, tears flowing down her face as she ran to him, put his head in her lap, stroked the smooth hair, pleading with him to get up, get up, for god's sake!

Ranma was still, and Ukyou knew why. She'd seen it before.

Akane watched in horror as the body floated up, a new form coming loose from Ranma's charred and broken body. Ranma-chan, the one that this spirit had wantonly killed for, floated to the first ghost with a look of pure rapture as Ranma's body slammed one last time to the ground.

It was, had been, too much for Akane.

She screamed something intelligible and struck, her legs coiling, then releasing like a cobra, her mallet flying toward her foes.

The ghost laughed its ghostly laugh. Then it struck at Akane, with the same blast that had taken Ranma's life. Ukyou screamed as Akane hit the floor. Then, in her dreaming mind, she knew it was over. She waited for the release of waking up.

But it wasn't over.

The ghost floated to Akane, and whispered something in her unconscious ear. Impossibly, they were next at the Tendo house, and Ukyou was seeing new images. Images she shouldn't have seen. Happosai, the lech who had called forth the demon who killed Ranma.

Dead, at Akane's feet.

Akane, running, running in fear, in pain, in desperate madness.

Then, through Akane's eyes...

Falling...

Falling...

Water all around, but not struggling...

And in the background, the spirit's laughter, congratulating Akane, and then-

Addressing Ukyou.

_You, too, shall fall!_

The image spiralled away, but the laughter did not.

Ukyou's eyes snapped open and she sat bolt upright in her bed. She put a shaking hand to her chest, trying desperately to calm her ragged breathing. The same dream. It's only the same dream. A little different, that's all. Her thoughts did nothing to calm her fears. They never did. Her eyes darted around the room, until they fell on Ryouga, huddled in a corner of her room, sleeping fitfully.

She briefly wondered if it were all a dream, even this, when vivid memory of the night before flooded past the cobwebs of sleep into her aware mind. Her hand went to her mouth as she remembered her finally being able to tell him everything, literally forcing it past tears at times, at others having to wait until he had again stopped weeping. The news that Akane had taken her own life hit him the hardest.

Together they had wept on, screamed at, and held onto the other for the better part of the night. When they had exhausted themselves of their shared grief, Ukyou had found she didn't want to be alone. She'd asked Ryouga to stay the night. Having nowhere else to go, he agreed.

She watched him sleep. His face was still contorted from grief, and every once in a while a tongue of yellow-green fire would spring from his still form as his despair manifested itself as ki.

With a start, as if he knew eyes were watching him, he awoke. His eyes were red with the night before's tears, and his face betrayed his heavy heart. But when he saw it was Ukyou, he relaxed, if only a little.

"G'morning," he slurred sleepily. In truth, it looked as if he had gotten no sleep at all. Ukyou knew she didn't look any better. Still, to lighten the already too depressing mood, she quipped, "It's afternoon."

Ryouga just looked at the clock.

"So it is."

The day wore on into evening. Ryouga prepared to leave, his heart obviously still heavy. To Ukyou's own amazement, she found she didn't want him to.

"Where will you go?" she asked, not quite willing to face him as he packed.

"I don't know. Wherever I end up, I guess. Believe it or not, I've never actually tried to get lost," he finished, with a grin that only managed to expose the tip of one fang.

Ukyou turned to face him. She, too, wore a sad little grin. "If you're trying to get lost, sugar, you'll only end up back here!"

"Shut up," he whispered. But the small glint in his eyes let Ukyou know he wasn't angry. He turned to her suddenly and gave her a quick hug before he spun to run out the door.

Half an hour later, Ukyou's prophecy came true. He knocked on the back door of Ucchan's for directions. Ukyou laughed for the first time in three weeks. Ryouga, for his part, blushed and turned to go.

"Ryouga," Ukyou called to him softly.

He turned, slightly confused and still embarrassed.

Ukyou blushed lightly. "Don't go."

The next month, they found at last the mutual courage to visit the graves. They had been inseparable for that entire time, acting as one another's conscience, confidant, and friend. They walked up the path together on that cold December day, each one's stomach churning along with their minds, each one dreading the emotions they knew would overwhelm them.

They approached the stone markers with trepidation, and laid the incense and flowers down next to the names. They paid their homage to the two souls they had each cared most about, then paid homage to their respective rivals. Ukyou was calm inside. She had fought too long against her emotions to break down now. Ryouga was another story. Ukyou didn't notice until she heard sobs next to her. Ryouga had his hand on Ranma's name as if he could erase it with his bare hand and therefore bring Ranma back. Tears were running down his face, washing the gravestone.

"If only I'd been there... Maybe I could have helped... Ranma...Akane... I- I'm so sorry..."

Ukyou pulled Ryouga to her and let him weep against her chest.

"It's OK, Ryouga-honey... It's going to be OK."

Ukyou's night was wonderful.

Ryouga was caressing her gently, holding her from behind, his hot breath comforting on the back of her neck.

"Aishiteru, Ukyou-chan"

Ukyou smiled.

--- 

Darkness crept behind them.

A shape reached out of the darkness, almost passing through Ryouga, before he jumped out of the way.

_You have what I want, Hibiki!_

Ukyou's head shook in terror. "NO! Ran- Ranma had what you wanted!"

Ryouga dropped into a defensive stance in front of his beloved. "Get out of here! Leave Ukyou alone!"

The ghost smiled at the lost boy. _Oh, that I shall_! He lifted a hand, red, angry energy flying from it and slamming Ryouga in the chest. Ryouga flew through the air and crashed down, unmoving, smouldering.

Dead.

Ukyou rushed to him, cradling his bloody head in her lap, weeping bitter tears.

"Ryouga! Not you! NOT YOU!" She shook him violently, as if the motion would make him open his eyes. "Don't leave me, dammit! I need you." Her shaking slowed, then stopped as the reality of it sunk in. "I need you."

Ukyou awoke, instinctively calling Ryouga's name. Then she remembered. He was gone.

-We've been together for six month's. He's OK.- 

She couldn't remember how it had all started. It actually seemed as if it had always been this way, at times.

Not that this time was one of them.

Ryo-chan was missing. Again.

She paced back and forth, slightly worried since he'd been gone for six days this time. Sometimes she'd think she'd gotten over his lack of direction, but when he was gone for days at a time, like this, then...then...

She didn't know why she bothered worrying. It's not like he hasn't been lost BEFORE. Ryouga's been wandering his whole life! 

But Kuonji Ukyou was worried. She kept having a painfully vivid nightmare of Ryouga being stalked by a ghost piglet. She worried about losing him. Worried he might be hurt. Worried that he'd left her...

That was it. The real reason for her fears, and tears began to flow as she remembered. -If he doesn't come back, it'll be all my fault...-

[Ucchan's, Six days ago

Ryouga had woken up cheerful this morning, quite a change from hisusual depressed state.

Ukyou put a plate of breakfast okonomiyaki in front of him with a smile and chirped a bright 'good morning'.

The lost boy dove into the okonomiyaki with a fervour she had only seen with one other customer. Ran-chan. She smiled at him as she made her own breakfast, a routine she had fallen into without any desire to get out of it. When she thought about it, he was very much like her lost love. He was an avid martial artist, a big eater, sometimes a little slow when it came to romance (at least, he had been...), and she still had to keep a kettle of hot water on the stove, just in case.

When he had finished, he cleaned up after himself, handed her the plate, kissed her hand (causing Ukyou to blush mightily) and whispered clearly, "Thanks, Ucchan."

Ukyou's heart had grown cold, as the words, whispered in love, both fulfilled her dreams and shattered her. She had begun to tremble. Ryouga grabbed her hand again.

"Ukyou, what's wrong?"

Her eyes filled with tears. She looked up at him, angry at him for reminding her of that name.

"Don't you ever call me that," she hissed.

Ryouga looked confused.

"Huh? Ucchan, what are you talking abo-"

"I SAID DON'T CALL ME THAT!" She screamed at him, and slapped him in the face, so hard it whipped his head around. He turned back toward her, the hurt in his eyes as vivid as the growing palm print on his face.

They looked at each other in silence for a few minutes, while she tried to gather the courage to admit she'd been wrong, to tell him she was sorry she'd hit him, but the memories, the OUTRAGE... She COULDN'T forgive him. She just couldn't... That name... That name wasn't for HIM to use...It... It just WASN'T.

Ryouga finally turned and left into the street, running at full speed. Ukyou stared at her hand for minutes before she realised he'd run off.

She bolted to the door, knowing it was probably already too late to catch him, but wanting desperately to apologise, explain, and most of all-

Not be alone.

After too many tries, she crumpled to the floor, and wept.

"Ryouga... I'm so sorry..."

Now, six days later, he still hadn't come home.

The worry had become a private hell for Ukyou. -You lost one love, and drove the other away...- 

Ukyou heard a scratching at the front door. She walked quickly to the door, not realising that she was holding her breath until she let it out, until she saw what was making the noise.

In the rain, shivering from cold, stood a small black piglet, dragging a little satchel behind him by a string.

"Ryouga!" Ukyou cried, scooping the little pig up into her arms and holding him tightly. He seemed to tense up, and then relaxed into the hug, 'hugging' her back by snuggling against her. Ukyou put him down, holding back tears, and ran into the kitchen. There, she grabbed the ever present kettle of water and a bundle of clothing from under the sink, then ran back into the dining area to a patiently waiting Ryouga.

She poured the water on him and turned around, allowing him to get dressed. She didn't turn back to him until he tapped her on the shoulder.

After that, she couldn't hold herself back. She grabbed onto him, crying into his chest.

"Ryo- Ryouga, I'm so sorry! I... When you called me that, I... it hurt so much..."

Ryouga stroked her hair more gently than someone who was supposed to hate her, shushing her lightly. When her crying began to subside, he whispered, "I understand."

Ukyou looked up at him, her tear-filled eyes both happy and surprised. "You do?"

He smiled sadly at her.

"I do now. I didn't when it happened. I had only called you-"

Ukyou's eyes narrowed slightly. 

"I only called you... that because I thought it would make you happy." Ukyou began to tremble again, on the verge of tears. He put a gentle finger to her lips before she could apologise again. "Shh, let me finish. I was hurt when you hit me, and I ran out because I didn't want to yell, or anything like that. When I was outside, I got splashed. To make a long story short, I ended up... near the Tendos..." Ukyou could feel him tense up against her. But she didn't try to interrupt. 

"The gate was open, and I walked in, just like I always would. Kasumi was there... and she saw me... and she came up to me and started... started to cry... and..." it was obviously a painful memory for him still as the words caught in his throat, but he went on anyway. "She picked me up and held me... and said, 'Oh, P-Chan...' She couldn't say anything else, she just said P-Chan over and over... and each time it was like she was stabbing me in the gut. Anyway," he straightened then, trying to compose himself, "after I was able to get away, I just thought about it for the longest time... 'If I felt like that because Kasumi called me... what Akane always called me...' Ukyou, I'm sorry... I just didn't realise..."

Ukyou squeezed him tighter.

"Shh, Ryo-chan, you have no reason to be sorry..." They held each other for a long time, then Ryouga looked at her, blushing.

"Uc- Ukyou?" She looked into his eyes. "I'm... hungry." He blushed a deep shade of red as Ukyou giggled.

"So that's why you came back, hm?" she teased, jumping over the counter to start up her grill.

As he ate the hot okonomiyaki, he smiled up at her.

"Thanks, Oko-chan." When her face turned thoughtful, he tensed.

"Oko-chan? Why Oko-chan?"

"Well, it's because you cook okonomiyaki and it's a nickname, and

it's just silly nevermind haha..." Ryouga stammered, red faced, in her seeming disappointment... until she beamed.

"I like it. Oko-chan..."

After dinner and clean up, Ryouga went to the satchel he had dragged as P-Chan from Gods knew where. From the small bundle, he pulled a tiny little box. Looking down at it, his back still to Ukyou, who was cleaning the grill, he knew he was going to do the right thing.

"Ukyou?" he spoke, softly, as he turned.

Ukyou smiled at her grill, too happy at having him home to look up.

"Yes, Ryo-chan?"

A shiny, round object slid into her vision, stopping her methodical movements and sending her heart pounding through her chest.

"It's not the biggest, or the best, but... will you... umm..."

Ukyou began to cry, instantly sending Ryouga into a panic. 

"I'm sorry, oh, god, Ukyou, I'm-" Ukyou leapt over the grill and counter, hugging him fiercely.

"YES! Oh, Ryo-chan!"

They spent that night in each other's arms.

To those who thought they knew the couple, this wedding had been long enough in coming.

To the couple themselves, it was still kind of surprising it was happening at all. They certainly wouldn't have believed it would have happened three years ago.

Ukyou sat in the small area of her restaurant set aside for her to await for the ceremony to begin. Her hands nervously wiped themselves down the wedding kimono she wore, having agreed with Ryouga that a traditional Japanese ceremony was best. -After all,- ran through both their minds, -we're not in enough of a hurry to try a western ceremony.- 

Ukyou had almost giggled aloud when she thought of who would've been in such a hurry... but that almost happy thought quickly turned into one of melancholy.

Kasumi walked into the room, glowing with happiness and pride. To Ukyou, she had every right to be proud. She had recently won the heart of Dr. Tofu. They were going to get married in the next two months, and Ukyou was grateful that Kasumi had taken time out of her own busy schedule to help with the chef's wedding.

"Ukyou," Kasumi said softly, proudly, "you look so beautiful."

Ukyou smiled a small, nervous smile. "Thank you. I doubt I could look even presentable without your help, Kasumi."

Kasumi smiled again, and helped Ukyou straighten out a few minor wrinkles that had appeared since Ukyou started thinking about her two lost friends. Finally, Kasumi, noticing Ukyou's distraction, took her hands.

Ukyou looked up at the older Tendo in surprise.

"Ukyou," Kasumi began, as gently and lovingly as she had done everything in her life. "Almost three years ago, you helped me with something. Now it's my turn."

Kasumi softly brushed Ukyou's cheek. "You're thinking about what Ranma and Akane would think if they were here, aren't you?"

Ukyou, again surprised, only nodded.

Kasumi smiled. "I think... I think they would be happy for you. Ryouga is such a nice man, and he was always a good friend to Ranma and Akane both..." 

Ukyou softly choked back a laugh. -If you really only knew, Kasumi...- 

But Kasumi proved that she had.

"Yes, Ranma and Ryouga fought a lot, and mostly over Akane, but they both looked out for each other, too."

Ukyou stared at Kasumi, not realising it, the surprise rapidly turning to shock. Kasumi giggled slightly. "Come, Ukyou, you didn't think I didn't see, did you?"

Ukyou, too, giggled despite herself.

"Well, you never seem to be bothered by anything..."

They had a nice laugh, the nervous tension draining from Ukyou's shoulders. Kasumi continued. "Ryouga is a nice man. He was always there for Akane... if not as Ryouga, then as P-Chan."

Ukyou stopped smiling and blanched, wide eyed.

"H- how did you know?"

Kasumi smiled again, her ever innocent eyes revealing no animosity toward Ukyou's soon-to-be husband. "I think it was last year. I was hanging up some clothes when I spotted Akane's pet. I picked him up and began to cry on him, saying his name over and over. When I let him go, I knew that it was really Ryouga..."

Kasumi's smile turned a little sad, but not angry, as Ukyou expected. Ukyou swallowed hard.

"But... how?"

"Well, when I let him go, he began to walk away slowly. Up until then, I'd never seen a pig glow with ki before." Kasumi blushed slightly.

"I'm sorry, Ukyou. I've obviously upset you..." Ukyou smiled nervously.

"No, Kasumi, don't go. I'll be OK, and I don't want to be alone."

Kasumi sat back down, and the conversation turned to the wedding about to begin.

Ukyou's mind flew through the wedding and reception afterward, allowing her to enjoy it without dwelling on it too much. The guests, the ceremony, the kimono, all seemed to conspire to overwhelm her, but she was able to smile at the guests without being completely swamped. Before long, it was only her and Ryouga left.

The couple looked at each other, the trying day behind him. Ryouga still looked as if he'd faint, or at least fall over. He walked to Ukyou and gently wrapped his arms around her. "Busy day, ne, Oko-chan?"

Ukyou smiled softly into his chest, still desperately trying to lose the nagging doubt that something was wrong. -It's only wedding day jitters...-

But despite all of her efforts, she couldn't relax in her new husband's arms.

Ryouga somehow knew. "Are you all right, Ukyou?"

Ukyou smiled and stammered. "H-hai, hai, Ryo-chan. I'm only a little tired."

Ryouga smiled a sweet smile at her. "Come, then, let's go to bed."

He picked her up and carried her easily up the stairs of the Ucchan. At the top of the stairs, he turned left.

"Ryo-chan? Our room's that way."

---

The night was empty and grey, and fear was tangible.

Ukyou watched the scene again, her mind reeling, her body straining to react to forces that were beyond her control.

The ghost was back.

She watched in silence as he destroyed Ranma, forced Akane off the bridge.

Then, to her horror, he didn't disappear.

He blasted Kasumi into a wall, shattering bones. He literally tore Nabiki to shreds, her screams echoing in Ukyou's dreams. He tore Ryouga from her arms, dragging him to an ungodly darkness, dragging him away.

He blew her restaurant to smithereens as she battled against him, ineffectually. Finally, when she thought she was most alone, he advanced on her own pregnant form, his face clouded, indiscernible, but smiling an evil smile.

_Oh, no. We can't have an unstable wench like you raising a child now, can we?_

He reached inside of her, and pulled her baby out of her, its screeching cries fading as he disappeared from sight.

"NOOOOOO..."

"...OOOOOOOO!" Ukyou gasped, bolt upright in her bed, and frantically put her hand to her swollen belly. She felt her baby kick, and her heartbeat almost faded to normal.

"Oh, Ryouga, I had the most horrible dream..."

She looked over to where her husband lay... and he wasn't there. Her heartbeat jumped back into it's panicked speed. "Ryouga!"

She jumped from the bed, trembling, and stumbled out the door, all the while hoarsely whispering for her lost husband. Her voice, though she tried to force it to, would not raise its volume.

She heard a thump in the closet, and then saw the closet door slowly open. She huddled in a corner of the hallway, too terrified to move, too frozen to cry out.

A shape the size of a man slowly crawled from the closet door...

"Oko-chan?"

Her tear filled eyes widened. "Ry- ryo-chan?"

He walked into a stream of moonlight and caught her as she bounded to him and clutched to his chest.

"Oh, Oko-chan... another bad dream?"

She nodded against his chest as he picked her pregnant form up and, with her directions, carried her to bed.

As she calmed, she whispered angrily at him, "Where were you?"

He stroked her hair, used to her foul temper after these nightmares.

"I had to go to the bathroom. I didn't want to wake you, but I couldn't find the room again."

Ukyou's anger faded. It wasn't his fault he got lost for days at a time. It wasn't his fault that there were times when she had to run the restaurant alone, or that she would spend weeks without him. None of it was his fault.

Somehow, it was hers.

Ryouga stroked her hair, speaking in soft, smooth tones. He cradled her in his arms, almost rocking her, promising that he was trying, so hard to conquer his directional sense. Soon, her eyes began to droop, lost in the sweet soft tones of her Ryo-chan, remembering why she loved him, why she married him. She drifted off to a thankfully dreamless sleep.

--- 

By some miracle, Ryouga was there when the baby arrived.

Dr. Tofu urged Ukyou to push, just one more time. -It's been 'just one more time' three times now-, she thought nervously through her pain. -Is there something wrong with the baby?- 

Finally she felt the sudden emptiness that marked her child, the little one she'd carried for nine months, leaving her belly. She smiled, but couldn't help feeling a little... lonely. Ryouga squeezed her hand and smiled through the mask at her, then glanced at the baby.

Ukyou noticed him blanch. "Oh, God, what's wrong?"

In a blur of motion, Dr. Tofu rushed the baby to a nearby table. Ukyou's frantic eyes followed the doctor, and noticed the bluish tinge to the baby. He wasn't crying, and Tofu was working in frantic efficiency.

"Doctor, what's wrong," Ryouga asked, his voice falsely steady, his hand squeezing Ukyou's in support now, rather than joy.

"The baby isn't breathing..." The doctor trailed off as his concentration gave way fully to saving the child's life.

Ukyou stared on in horror. Her nightmares were coming true before her eyes. Ryouga was gone now more often than not. It was getting harder and harder to keep her shop open. And the last thing, the thing she was afraid to tell, even to Ryouga.

She was seeing the ghost while she was awake.

The thought that she was going crazy chilled her bones, and terrified her to the depths of her soul.

She watched as the doctor's confident hands worked on her baby that not hours before had seemed so lively. She began to weep, losing all hope of holding her own child in her arms, when it appeared, filling her with dread.

The ghost from her dreams was bent over her baby.

Her body cried out in agony, but her throat was so constricted that breath hardly passed through. She stole a glance at her husband, but his gaze was locked on Tofu and the baby. He hadn't seen. Knowing she had to do something, her hand went to the small throwing spatula she kept with her, always, and wrapped around it.

The baby's cry froze her arm before she had a chance to throw it.

The ghost disappeared.

Dr. Tofu relaxed, and Ryouga's hand went limp in hers as he, too, began to weep. They held each other tightly, almost laughing hysterically at times. Then the doctor wrapped the baby in a blanket and carried him over to the expectant couple. Ukyou reached her arms out, nervously eager, the horror of her vision temporarily washed away in the joy of motherhood. Ryouga placed a gentle hand on her shoulder as she held her little one, her son, as the doctor had said, and watched him begin to sleep away his tiring ordeal.

Dr. Tofu smiled at the new parents, always happy to see joy in these two particular faces.

"What will you name him, Hibiki-san?"

Ryouga's face went blank and he looked to Ukyou.

Ukyou smiled sadly at the baby, the vision and it's implications settling into her mind. "We'll name him Kioku." -Because they are what

is haunting me.-

---

Ukyou stood before the creature, her spatula ready in her tense arms. "Get away from my husband, get away from my restaurant, and get AWAY FROM MY BABY!"

The ghost before her blinked in surprise, then callously laughed at her attempt to thwart it. _You are NOTHING to me, 'Ucchan'!_

That name. He DARED to use that name against her! With a cry of rage, her spatula came down on the ghost's head. The ghost gasped in surprise as he was smashed to the ground by the large blade, and began to bleed red energy.

Then the energy focused in the eyes.

The ghost re-inflated itself to full height, a tower of red and black energy. Ukyou flinched and tightened her grip on the spatula. The ghost disarmed her with a swipe.

_You arrogant FOOL!_ It advanced on her, energy literally flying off of it in the spirit's rage_. I will destroy you, insolent whelp!_

Ukyou's arm tensed, her spatula shuriken flying from her fingertips.

"You HAVE destroyed me, monster! I'm losing everything, all because of YOU!"

The creature burned the spatula in the air. _No, woman, you only think you've lost everything!_ In a fiery blur, he was on her son, draining the life from him. Ryouga was a charred shape on the ground just as quickly.

"NOOOOOOOOO! Kioku! RYOUGA!"

Then the spirit was on her, and the world filled with red and black.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Her eyes snapped open, and Ukyou once again cursed the morning.

In the crib next to her bed, Kioku's lower lip began to tremble. Ukyou got out of the futon slowly, cooing a gentle lullaby out of instinct. "It's OK, little one. Momma just had a very scary dream."

Hearing the soft tones of his mother soothed one-year-old Kioku, and he began to sleep once again. Ukyou looked out the window of her apartment. The sun was high in the sky, and something wasn't quite right...

-Oh, my GOD! It's afternoon!- 

She began to get dressed to open the restaurant... and stopped, holding back tears.

-I've lost it. I've lost the restaurant.- 

She began to cry quietly, careful not to wake the baby. -How could I have let myself go like that? Why didn't I ask Ryo-chan for help?- Her tears abated as she came to terms with her pain. There was nothing left to do but to take care of the baby and wait for Ryouga to come home. -We'll be able to handle it. He's... he's always there when he can be.- 

_No, he isn't_

Ukyou whirled toward her baby's crib.

There, in the shadows behind the crib was the object of her nightmares. The creature that took Ran-chan and Akane, and started her down this long and lonely spiral of despair.

Ukyou dashed to the closet and grabbed her spatula, shrugging into the bandolier of throwing spatulas. The ghost laughed as she swung madly at it, trying to manoeuvre it away from the baby, then trying to fling it out of her life.

"BASTARD! BASTARD, I'LL KILL YOU!"

_You can't kill me, 'Ucchan', I'm already dead!_

The spirit laughed mercilessly as it floated out the window. Without a second thought, Ukyou flung herself out and chased it down the fire escape.

The battle raged, the spirit laughing and dodging, Ukyou swinging and throwing miniature versions of her giant spatula, all trying to eradicate this monster, the DEMON from her life.

The demon that took her first love.

The demon that made her lose her restaurant.

The demon that almost took her little son.

The demon... that made her drive her husband away.

The demon that left her alone.

She was vaguely aware of people now, some throwing themselves before her, trying to stop her. Couldn't they see the evil in front of her? Didn't they know she HAD to stop this... MONSTER? Violently, she tore through the people trying to stop her, only half registering the thuds of people who had gotten in her way.

_Follow me, 'Ucchan'! This way! Not much further now!_

-He's taunting me! Dammit, he's TAUNTING me!- 

Ukyou flew through the streets of Nerima, desperately trying to end the existence of the floating form before her. The form jumped backward, laughing at her attempts to flip the smile off of it's face with her giant spatula.

_I killed him, 'Uc-chan'_, the eerie voice intoned, _I killed him, and took him away from you, and you'll never have him back!_

Ukyou's spatula burned a blur through the air, crossing in front of her as she struck at the menace again and again. "I DON'T CARE IF YOU ARE A GHOST! I'LL DESTROY YOU, YOU BASTARD!"

The crowd fled, panicking , from Ukyou. They had no idea who she was angry at, or at whom she was screaming obscenities. All they knew was that the once kind Ukyou had gone on a rampage. The first few who had tried to calm her had fallen hard, cut by her throwing spatula or their heads almost caved in by the larger version. From everywhere came the cry: "Hibiki Ukyou has gone mad!"

She had torn a path of destruction from Ucchan's all the way to the business section of Nerima. There, in her vision, the ghost stopped, and laughed.

_Ukyou, darling... how would you like to see your dearest 'Ran-chan' again?_

Ukyou stopped then, her eyes narrowing. "What do you mean, see Ran-chan again?"

The spirit laughed, reached behind him, and pulled...

-Oh, deity...- 

Ranma's battered form appeared before her as if by magic . Ukyou clutched her spatula in her trembling hands, burning with fury at the being before her. "What are you doing with him? He died years ago!"

An evil look crossed the spirit's face. _He was so amusing when he was alive, I decided to have more fun with him._

"YOU CAN'T HAVE HIM!" she screamed at a being the police couldn't see. The policemen hung back, not willing to startle this madwoman before them. Besides, none of them had any desire to see the business end of her spatula.

To Ukyou, Ranma was reaching for her, pleading with his eyes and voice.

"Ucchan... help... please..."

Her eyes widened in her fury and desperation, and she lunged to grab Ranma away from the evil hands... but succeeded only in passing right through them both.

Ranma began to scream in agony as painfully red energy transferred itself from the ghost who had taken Ranma's life to Ranma's own battered soul.

"Let him GO," Ukyou screamed in rage, swinging her spatula through the pair. The spirit, no, demon, locked her eyes.

_The time has come to dispense with the child's play, ne, 'Ucchan'?_ the spirit hissed, pronouncing the last word as a curse. _You spent years wasting your heart on this... worm, knowing he didn't return your affections_. Ukyou staggered back, shaking her head.

_You wasted the time you could have had with Akane fighting with her, and then have the nerve to call her your best friend only after she's gone!_ Ukyou staggered as a vision of a heartbroken Akane stepped beside the ghost.

_You marry a man, have a child with him, out of your own fear of being alone, only to drive him away!_ Ryouga's weeping face floated between Ranma and Akane, the hurt in his eyes burning her with it's intensity.

_You are a pathetic fool, who deserves to be alone!_ Ryouga's image vanished suddenly, embodying her worst fear, and causing her to gasp in grief. She fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. Around her, the police saw she was giving up steam. The first line of them slowly stalked toward her.

They didn't notice the bluish-green tinge around her.

The ghost picked up both Akane and Ranma and held them high in the air by their throats, ignoring their struggles. _You don't deserve even happy memories of these two, 'Uc-chan'! Your life is a waste, a pathetic existence!_

The red energy flared from his arms and writhed through the two embodiments of Hibiki Ukyou's happier life. With a scream that shattered the air, Ranma and Akane disintegrated into a ghostly cloud. The spirit, laughing at Ukyou's pain, disappeared from sight.

Then there was silence, broken moments later by the spiritual crunch of a heart breaking, and the wet tear of a soul torn in two.

Ukyou began to wail in the pent-up grief of four long years. Her body glowed, noticeably now, with a violent blue green aura. As the scream continued, she raised her hands and spatula in the air, only desiring to release her grief, escape the pain of the vision she had just seen. A bright ball of energy glowed about her hands. The police had almost reached her when, with a final screech, she released it into the air. Years of grief, pain, and sorrow burst into the air to hover hundreds of feet over the okonomiyaki chef.

Then, as her head bowed in exhaustion, it crashed down to earth again. Ukyou, for the first time in her life, had performed the ultimate Shishi Houkodan.

The shock struck the ground and rolled in wave upon wave along it, blowing the policemen surrounding her back with it. Ukyou, in the centre, sat almost unaffected, but the shock-wave began to tear apart the nearby buildings. As it subsided, she collapsed in the middle of a wasteland.

She looked up at the torn streets, the battered shops and signs...the people, moaning in pain, holding their heads or stomachs or arms...bleeding.

-I did... that?- 

"Oh, God. What have I done?"

The second division of police, a special force designated to handle "special problems," stalked toward her. She raised her head to see them coming, but had not strength left to defend herself. She watched as the burly men were almost upon her. Then, in the corner of her eyes, saw the blurs.

Yellow blurs, that knocked two of the seven away.

"SHISHI HOUKODAN!" A blast of energy flung two others back into a crumpling wall. Ukyou saw a blur of black and yellow land before her, and then strike at the ground. 

"BAKUSAI TENKETSU!" 

The ground exploded in a radius around them, toppling the last three. One of the men, the largest, got up and made a mad grab at Ukyou. A red blur caught him in the arms, bringing forth a crunch and scream of pain. Then, a flash of fang, a low, menacing growl.

"Leave. My. Wife. Alone!"

Ukyou looked up to her saviour. Ryouga stood between her and the rest of the men, his umbrella in his hand, pointing at the large policeman, who was cradling his broken arm. The men who were left conscious backed away. Ryouga bent down, scooped her up, and walked away into the sunset.

She snuggled against her husband's chest. "I knew he was wrong about you."

Ryouga pulled her to him gently. "Are you OK?" When she nodded, he gently kissed her forehead. "Let's get you home, Oko-chan."

Ukyou snuggled to Ryouga, then giggled. "Ryo-chan? Home's that way."

The next day, Ryouga answered a knock on the door. Men in white uniforms pushed their way past, and walked toward Ukyou. Ryouga dashed in front of them, blocking their way to his wife. "Don't even think about it!"

"Hibiki-san, your wife is responsible for major destruction. She has been summarily tried in abstentia, and deemed in need of psychiatric evaluation, for her own good, and that of the people. If you do not allow us to escort her away, we will use force." The uniformed policeman unholstered his night-stick and pointed it at Ryouga.

In a blur of motion, Ryouga's hand snapped to his head and came down. The front half of the night-stick clattered to the ground, and Ryouga's bandanna whirled in his hand. "Get out of my house and leave my wife alone!"

The men surrounded Ryouga and began to close in. Just as Ryouga prepared to strike, Ukyou cried out, "STOP!"

They stopped, Ryouga whirling around. "They want to take you away from me! I can't..."

Ukyou smiled a sad smile. "They're right, Ryouga. I... I need help. It's OK, sugar, it'll only be for a little while..."

Ryouga's shoulders slumped. "But... what about... I can't let you go, Oko-chan. I can't take care of Kioku alone... he needs you... I need you..."

Ukyou hugged her husband. "You'll do just fine, and I promise, when I get out, we'll be a happy family. Maybe Kasumi can help you?" She smiled up into her husband's saddened eyes. "I need this, Ryo-chan. I need it."

Ryouga nodded once, biting back the searing depression, and watched as Ukyou went to gather clothes for her time away. When she came back, she hugged Ryouga one last time. "I'll be back soon," she whispered into his ear, hugging him tightly. Before she let go, she gazed into his eyes.

"Ryouga?"

Ryouga looked back, hoping that she'd say she wanted to stay.

"Y-yes?"

"Say it for me. Just once?"

Ryouga gave her a sad little smile, a glint of fang near each lip.

"I love you... Ucchan."

Ukyou smiled as the men walked her away from her home.

The next day, she was put in her cell.

(Kioku means "Memory").

EPILOGUE

October 21, 2024

Doctor Takamoshi put the idea of a journal in my head. I agreed with him. But this one is MY thoughts, MY journal, and I have no plan to share it with anyone.

"Ryo-chan" has stopped visiting me altogether. I think he is ashamed of me. He won't even bring my son to see me, the bastard!

Sometimes I can't believe what an idiot he can be! First, he sells the restaurant, then, he gets lost with our six year old son, and now, just when I think he's gotten better, he... he...

He leaves me alone.

They came again today, claiming that they needed more tests. I asked them when I could get out again, and they ignored me. I hope they let me out soon. I want to see my son again... And, even though I hate him, I want to see Ryo-chan again. I could never truly hate him.

I DO hate these doctors and their damn tests! They poke me, they prod me, they cut me and take chunks of my flesh... and when I complained about it to Dr. Takamoshi, he just went white and tried to convince me I was hallucinating. Can you believe that! I even showed him the scars, and he moved me to the ward for people who are violently insane!

I hate this place. The okonomiyaki sucks.

-Hibiki Ukyou

FIN


	7. Lost

**LOST**

by Jason L. 'Jai-kun' Langlois

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R2096 characters and situations used with permission. Takahashi's aren't.

Please, Takahashi-sama, don't send Nodoka for my head! .;;

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[TOKYO INSTITUTE FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE, MAY 16, 2024, 5:14 PM

Ukyou smiled at him from behind the glass. "H-how is everything, Ryo-chan?"

Ryouga fell into his usual pattern, setting the small gift set of paper and pen on the table, slowly, for the orderly to take to his wife, as he chatted with her about mundane things. He wanted so badly to ask her about the institution, about how they were treating her, or to tell her about Kioku, who would be starting college soon, but the doctors had been very adamant. 'Don't say anything that would excite her, Hibiki-san. We don't want a repeat of last month's... incident.'

Last month's 'incident' was when Ukyou had broken one orderly's arm, and sent a second to the infirmary with a severe kick to his groin. And that wasn't even Ryouga's fault.

Had hurt to watch, though.

Ryouga held his information inside, waiting for the day when he could take his wife home.

It'd been nearly twenty-five years since Ukyou had willingly put herself in this place. He still couldn't understand why they wouldn't let her go. They had claimed it was because of her violent tendencies. If that were the case, he'd argued, half of the population of Furinkan's class of '98 would have to be in here, too!

Ukyou giggled as Ryouga came back out of his thoughts and smiled at her. "Did you even here what I'd said, Ryo-chan?"

Ryouga blushed. "No. I'm sorry."

Ukyou smiled softly. "I said, Kasumi must be feeding you well."

Ryouga smiled broadly. "Actually, with her daughter and husband, she only comes by about once a week. Kioku does most of the cooking."

Ukyou's eyes shone with pride. "That's wonderful!" 

Ryouga watched as her face turned from happiness to sadness. Her voice was barely audible, but it broke Ryouga's heart.

"Ryo-chan... I want to go home."

Tears spilled down her face as she looked at him. He leaned closer to the glass, his lips almost touching the holes that allowed them to speak.

"Soon, Oko-chan. Soon."

That's when all hell broke loose.

A broad-shouldered orderly walked up behind Ukyou. "Time's up."

Ukyou turned, startled. "Wait! We were supposed to have a whole hour."

The orderly wasn't listening. He pulled her up roughly, twisting her arm around her back painfully. "Don't argue with me, you little bi-"

The rest of his growl was muffled by his sudden impact with the floor. Ukyou had manoeuvred her foot behind his, twisted out of his grip, and planted him into the ground.

Ryouga stood up as more orderlies began to crowd around Ukyou, pulling her toward the door. "Hey! She didn't do anything!"

No one listened, and Ukyou was quickly subdued and dragged to her cell.

The sedative they had given her acted quickly, so that only muffled sobs followed her down the corridor to her room.

Ryouga seethed at the orderly getting up, the one that had first tried to pull Ukyou away. "What the hell do you think you're doing? We had an hour together!"

The guard looked at him with cold eyes. "We have instructions to intervene at any sign of trouble, sir."

"Trouble? There was no trouble! All she said was that she wanted to go home!"

The orderly sneered. "I have my orders, 'sir'." The inflection was not missed by Ryouga.

He stormed down the hall, and slammed open the administrator's door.

"Do you know what your damned orderlies did?"

Dr. Takamoshi looked up at Ryouga with hooded eyes. Ryouga was always reminded of a cobra when he looked at the administrator. "I'm sorry, Hibiki-san, how may I help you?"

Ryouga placed his palms on the doctor's desk and leaned forward. "Your goons attacked my wife for no reason!"

Takamoshi smiled up at the Hibiki, seemingly oblivious to the anger on the man's face. "Hibiki-san, I'm sure there was a reason."

Ryouga visibly tried to remain calm. "No," he said through gritted teeth, "all that happened was she said she wanted to go home, and the next thing I know, a guard is calling her names and twisting her arm." Ryouga spoke calmly, but his ki was beginning to burn hotter and hotter. It flared up when the doctor beamed.

"Well, there is your reason!" The doctor sobered a little when he noticed the ki energy roiling around Ryouga. "Hibiki-san, you must realise that things that may seem small to you and me escalate into something more serious all too quickly, here. What may have seemed to be a normal request to you could have caused another outburst like last time. With an unstable person like Ukyou-"

Ryouga had reached his limit. He grabbed the doctor's lapels, and with an ease that secretly terrified Takamoshi, pulled him over the desk and slammed him roughly into the wall opposite it. The doctor was face to face with Ryouga, his face dangerously close to Ryouga's fangs. "Don't you dare say she's unstable, dammit! I saw what happened!"

Takamoshi hid his fear with practised ease. "Hibiki-san, your wife sees ghosts. She personally destroyed a section of downtown Nerima.. She left her baby alone to chase a ghost. You cannot possibly describe those things as normal--" 

Ryouga shook the doctor. "I want her out of here. NOW."

Takamoshi sighed. "Hibiki-san, you know as well as I do that your wife cannot go-"

He was slammed into the wall. "Wrong answer."

Takamoshi was a bully. He treated his patients with the disdain he felt they deserved. To be truthful, he enjoyed the pain he put these miserable wretches through. But like most bullies, he was not used to actually being confronted with violence. He began to sweat, and his voice betrayed his fear.

"N-now, Hibiki-san, you must realise... precautions must be taken..."

Ryouga's face slowly lowered to bring his angry eyes to the doctor's level.

Then Takamoshi realised...

-Hibiki isn't lowering his face, he's lifting me! - When their noses almost touched, he growled low into the doctor's face.

"To hell with your precautions. I'm taking her out of here."

He put the doctor down roughly, and walked toward the window to look outside.

The doctor puffed himself up. "H- Hibiki-san, I am afraid I cannot allow you to see Ukyou Hibiki any longer. You have become an... unstable influence."

Ryouga looked back at the doctor, his expressionless face more intimidating than Takamoshi let on. Wordlessly, he turned back to the wall and struck it with one finger.

The wall exploded outward, exposing the office to the outside. "Stop me," came a growl from Ryouga's back.

Sweating and pale, the doctor waited until Ryouga was out of sight, and then shakily activated the phone. "Gosunkugi, K."

He put his headset to his ear, and then, in a shaking voice, spoke in a whisper. "Kyoofu. We have a problem."

Kyoofu listened patiently to the doctor, knowing some of the fear coming across the line was directed at him. -Good. I prefer it that way-. 

He had been expecting action from Hibiki for some time. Oh, he had tried to pull strings to keep him busy. The fact that the idiot was lost for weeks at a time was a great help to him. But he knew, sooner or later, he would act. That was the problem with Hibiki Ryouga.

He always needed to act.

On the phone, Takamoshi was still babbling. "...never should have kept her this long! I'm going to sign the papers to let he-"

"You will do NOTHING of the kind!" Kyoofu's voice was raised to an uncharacteristically loud level. He calmed himself, satisfied at the silence over the line. His voice took on a menacing tone, one that he never showed to anyone that was not on his payroll. "I am working far too hard and far too long on a cloning technique for us to lose such a prime template as Hibiki Ukyou. If I am to get the material I need, I must have her in a place where I have access to her 24 hours a day. Have I made myself clear?"

He heard a gulp over the line that warned him of the other's doctor's protest. "B-but, Kyoofu, there isn't anything wrong with her. And... And Hibiki will come back, and he'll..."

"And what do you think Hibiki will do if you let her go and she tells him exactly how you managed to convince the board to keep her there?

Hallucinogenics in her food, Subliminal messages, having the guards attack her for no apparent reason just to make her fight back, so that she would... how did the report go? 'Cause problems'? How do you think Hibiki will react to that, hmm?"

Takamoshi stammered intelligibly, then fell silent. -I swear, this fool is easier to scare than my relatives.- 

"Now, doctor," he continued, emphasising the title mockingly, "let me take care of Hibiki. You just make sure my... Template is kept in line."

"Y-yes s-sir."

Kyoofu hung up the line, made one other call, and left to continue his act for Tofu.

[TOKYO INSTITUTE FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE, MAY 17, 2024, 8:00 AM

Hibiki Ryouga patted Kuroshiro's flanks as he saw the gates of the institute. The young dog had served him as faithfully as her grandmother had... years ago. "Good girl. Wait here, O.K.? I may need you to guide us home when I'm done." The dog whuffed playfully, quivering in seeming anticipation, as if she knew her mistress was coming home.

Ryouga adjusted his bandanna, tightened his grip on the red bamboo umbrella that had been his constant companion in his younger days, and stalked to the rear of the complex, where he knew his wife was waiting.

Silently, he crept around the corner of her building. Walking swiftly, he located her window with an uncanniness he didn't have time to be proud of. He leapt up and peered through the bars of Ukyou's window.

She lay on her cot, sleeping, curled up in a tight ball. Her eyes were tightly shut with the strain this place had put upon her. The place that was supposed to help her... He called her gently, but she did not stir.

He released the cell window and dropped to the ground. -Don't worry, Oko-chan. I'll get you out.- 

He began to concentrate, gathering his ki, focusing his vision to find a single point in the masonry of the wall. Finding it, he pulled his arm back and prepared to strike.

"Bakusai-"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Ryouga whirled to be confronted by Gosunkugi Kyoofu, surrounded by four of the largest orderlies he had ever seen. He crouched into his stance, umbrella at the ready. "I'm taking my wife home."

He was shocked by the rather amused expression on the younger man's face. "Oh, I doubt I could stop you. After all, I'm only a scientist, whereas you are the premiere martial artist in Nerima."

With a smirk, Ryouga turned back to the wall, noticing the orderlies trying to flank him. It didn't matter. If Ukyou woke up, they'd both take care of these monsters. If not... If not, Ryouga could do it alone... and would, gladly.

He prepared to strike when Gosunkugi's high, nasally voice rang out once more. "It would, however, be a shame if Kioku couldn't find a promising job after his graduation this summer, wouldn't it?"

Ryouga whirled on him with a growl. "What are you-"

Kyoofu held up a sheet of paper. "I have here a letter, signed by Ono Tofu, stating the emotional instability of Hibiki Kioku. After all, he is the son of a well-known lunatic. One might expect him to be a little... off. This letter would effectively blacklist him for life."

Ryouga stammered, feeling as powerless and stupid as he had as a teenager. "B-but, Kioku already has a job lined up. At USE... Tameshi already did the interview..."

Kyoofu smiled, obviously enjoying the older man's confusion. "The word of Dr. Ono-sensei goes far with USE, ne?"

Ryouga stalked him dangerously, hoping his father's timidness had transferred itself to him. "Don't toy with my family, boy."

Three of the four orderlies stepped forward hesitantly, still remembering the beating a police officer had received when he had tangled with the martial artist. The fourth was that police officer, and was eager to regain his lost face. He charged...

Only to be stopped by the point of an umbrella in his face. "Do it, and I'll break your other arm," came the growl that he knew meant business. He stepped back, fuming.

In the meantime, Ryouga continued to stare at the Gosunkugi descendant before him. The younger man's arms were crossed, and there was a glint of challenge in his eyes. "One more step, Hibiki-san, and not only does this letter go out, but I make sure that Hibiki-sama is told the nastiest little bit of information about you."

Ryouga half sneered, half smirked at the younger, smaller man. "You have nothing to tell."

"She doesn't know that. How would it feel to have your loving wife hate your guts. Mighty lonely, ne?" Kyoofu had to stifle a laugh at the pained, confused look on Ryouga's face. -Deity, I LOVE this power!- 

"Sh-she wouldn't believe you!"

The young Gosunkugi's face reflected a touch of sadness. "Wouldn't she, Hibiki-san? You know as well as I do how quick she is to judge. The stresses of Institution life haven't calmed her down any. If anything, it's made her," he sighed for effect, "more paranoid." Then, his face hardened and his eyes shone. "Your wife is not well. She is a danger to herself, a danger to her son, and a danger to this community. If you try to take her out, I will release this letter!"

At a loss for words, Ryouga's mouth opened, then closed. He couldn't get her out legally. Now, he couldn't get her out by force. 

-This kid could give Nabiki a run for her... - An idea took form in his head, slamming into place with the force of a blow. Ryouga suppressed a smile, and turned to leave. "Tell my wife I'll see her when she wakes up."

"Ummmm... No." Gosunkugi smiled in satisfaction as Ryouga stopped and turned, aghast. "Dr. Takamoshi believes you to be a bad influence on Hibiki Ukyou's recovery. He has asked that your visiting privileges be halted for the time being while there is a review."

News of a review would have encouraged Ryouga months ago, but he was now far too used to the sloth and politics of the 'review' system. More than likely, it was a ploy to make him behave. Fine. Then he'd behave.

"Then tell her... that I miss her."

Not waiting for a response, he turned and walked away.

A bark rang out. Ryouga turned toward it, listened as three more barks tried to direct him toward them, then waited until a shaggy half black, half white dog romped up to him. "Home, Kiroshuro."

The dog and her owner tromped home. Kyoofu chuckled as the larger men dispersed. -That was easier than I thought...-

---

Nabiki bolted awake, shaking with her dreams. Dammit, am I ever going to get a full nights sleep? 

She rose on shaking legs and stumbled toward her computer. Why not? The stock updates from America should be back by now... 

First she tried working out her current problem. -If I don't get the Ono estate, would the centre still work? Hmm... If I take out the gym here, work in the health bar here... But why would people go to a health bar with no gym around?-

She sighed, a long, drawn-out sigh that repeated itself night after night. There was no way around it. She needed the land Kasumi's house was on.

Giving up, she hit the Stock Site. Before long, she was wrapped in the stream of numbers. "USE, hey, we gained a point this week. Micro-" The realisation hit her mid-thought.

Suddenly, she could see the figures for what they really were.

Numbers.

Images of light transmitted on a flashing screen.

And they had become her entire existence.

For a split-second, the realisation that haunted her in her sleep, a realisation that refused to be completely drowned out, tossed her into a sea of sorrow. -Deity, what is wrong with me? I spend more time with sycophants and numbers than I do with real people...- 

Her mind rushed to destroy that errant thought, the flaw in her otherwise perfect mask. 

"And exactly what is wrong with that?" she spoke aloud, her voice lending firmness to her convictions. "The others have their ways to keep busy. Kasumi has Tofu... and Belladonna..." She began to fantasise, thinking of a home, rather than an apartment, with a strong man beside her and a little boy rushing into her arms. -Mommy!-

She shook her head violently, dropping the dream with practised ease.

"There's nothing for me there. Akane..." Her throat tightened involuntarily. She swallowed through it. "Akane's gone... with Ranma," a sour taste rose in her mouth. She ignored that, as well. "Daddy's...well, Daddy's..." Tears began to form in her eyes.

-Nobody really thinks about Daddy anymore.- Something whispered to her from the back of her own mind, -The others. Get away from your family.-

She wiped the tear away impatiently, mentally chiding herself for the errant emotion. 

"Shampoo's off to kami-knows-where. The Kunous have 'found religion'..." 

A rather amusing image of Tatewaki speaking to a large crowd, his hair slicked back, with Kodachi crying in the background, causing her makeup to smear...

Nabiki almost smiled.

"And Ukyou is married to Ry..."

Wait.

Her hands moving quickly to her information files, she called up Kuonji Ukyou, slightly embarrassed that she hadn't had time to change the family name. Her embarrassment turned to guilt after she read the file. A file she had updated herself, obviously without paying attention.

"Currently a ward of the Tokyo Institute For The Criminally Insane...good lord..."

She looked at the desk clock. -10:00... it's later than I thought...- 

She got dressed, then dialled the number to her direct line.

"Kurenai?"

"Yes?"

"I want a limo downstairs at eleven-fifty. Cancel the rest of my afternoon appointments. I'm going to visit... a friend."

She could almost hear the younger man blink. "Madam?"

She smiled. He was a good business man, always on the lookout for his opportunity to 'get in good with the boss'. "Just do it."

"Of course, Madam."

The limousine pulled into the sterile parking area of the institute.

Nabiki stepped out and promptly wrinkled her nose. -Ukyou's been stuck here all this time? What has Ryouga been doing with himself?- 

As she walked to the door, the chief medical doctor came rushing up to her. "Tendo-san! We are honoured by your visit! How can we humbly be of service?"

Nabiki almost sneered at the grovelling administrator. -If he drools on my shoe, so help me...- 

"I'm here to see Hibiki Ukyou."

The doctor paled visibly. It always did Nabiki's heart good to see that. "H-Hibiki Ukyou? Yes, m-ma'am, if you like... She has been rather... dangerous of late, however..."

Nabiki stared him in the eye, one of the few times she ever looked anyone in the eye. "I'm a friend." Her voice was sweet, but her eyes told the doctor just who was in charge. "Please, tell her I'm here."

If the doctor could have sweat anymore, Nabiki would have needed new pumps.

Ukyou was brought to the visitors' area, where Takamoshi and Nabiki were waiting by four large orderlies. The doctor had given strict instruction that she was to be 'kept quiet'. Dr. Takamoshi silently congratulated himself. If someone as important as Tendo Nabiki saw her go... crazy, her husband wouldn't stand a snowball's chance in Okinawa of getting her out... 

His good mood was instantaneously dashed. "Leave us alone."

His mouth dropped six inches. "But... But... Tendo-san, she is dang-"

Nabiki whirled on him, driving the larger man back with her anger.

"What she IS, is malnourished, poorly kept, and lonely! What you are," her manicured finger pointed at the frightened face of Takamoshi, "is in deep trouble if we are not left alone to visit!"

The doctor fearfully waved his men away.

"A-a-as you wish, Tendo-san."

As the door closed, Nabiki turned to Ukyou, a smile warm upon her face.

"I'm so sorry I didn't visit sooner, Ukyou..." Nabiki herself was surprised at the sincerity in her voice.

Ukyou sat down, still surprised that Nabiki had shown as much vehemence as she had, especially on her behalf. It seemed as if the only ones who ever done that were... Ryo-chan and... and Ran-. 

"It's... It's OK..." A deep, heartfelt smile spread across her face. "I haven't seen you in so long, Nabiki-chan! How are you?"

Nabiki allowed herself, for once, to let the smile warm her. "I've kept busy..."

The two girls swept into a lively conversation, each nearly forgetting the partition between them. Only once did Nabiki have to put her business face back on, when Dr. Takamoshi tried to cut their visit short. "When we're finished," she nearly hissed, "we'll let you know."

Dr. Takamoshi retreated to his office, muttering something about making a call...

Nabiki laughed, letting her business face melt off. "Enough about me, Oko-chan," she smiled inwardly at the new pet name, "tell me about yourself!"

Ukyou smiled as she reminisced about her strong, sweet husband and her little boy, the boy who had so recently become a man. Nabiki's thoughts turned inward as she listened. Somehow, she knew she had never had that look in her eyes.

She listened, noting almost casually that it was what Ukyou had seemed to need. What Nabiki was doing almost as an afterthought, Ukyou was grasping at as a life-line. The years of hardship and pain seemed to melt from the poor woman's face as Nabiki merely spoke of things she hardly had time for anymore. Even more, it almost seemed as if she hadn't had the opportunity to really... well, talk, in years. She was practically bursting with the pent-up emotions and feelings.

As Nabiki listened to her gush about her wonderful life with Ryouga and the happiness when her child was born, her own mind touched lightly on the trysts she had called relationships. They had been... intense, like a blaze in the night. But, like many blazes, they had extinguished themselves too soon. As Ukyou spoke of her son, her own mind wandered to Kasumi's precious daughter. -Bell-chan is the closest thing I'll ever have to a child... - She shoved that thought out of her head in desperation.

She could not, would not, break down in front of Ukyou.

Ukyou's eyes glittered as she spoke of Ryouga, painting him incongruously as a dashing hero, a humble caregiver, and, sometimes, as a class-A moron. But no matter how she described him, the same light shone in her eyes. A light, Nabiki knew from experience, she had at one time reserved only for Ranma.

-That idiot, macho, stubborn fool!- 

Nabiki felt her heart softening. The pain that Ukyou had shared was dredging her own pain to the surface. She looked at Ukyou, not as an insane woman, or even as a charity case, but as a living, breathing human.

And the treatment she knew Ukyou had received here began to make her livid. She was nearly fed up with Ryouga's seeming inaction, leaving his own wife here to rot. 

"So why hasn't pig-boy gotten you out of here?" She nearly shouted.

Ukyou looked up, surprised. "You haven't noticed how Takamoshi keeps me surrounded in guards? Ryo-chan... he's really tried, Nabiki. When I was first in here, I wanted to be. Those dreams... they really frightened me."

Ukyou's face withered. "But they wouldn't let me leave. Ryouga, he's been trying to fight the case honourably, through the system... I guess it's not working."

Nabiki stared in saddened shock. She's defending him... -How can she still love him?- Her voice nearly broke. "Why doesn't he just blast his way in here and get you?"

Ukyou actually smiled. "He wants to. But that would probably get him put in here with me. That is what got me here in the first place, sugar." Her face drooped even more, and some tears flowed down her cheeks. "I- I just want to go home."

Nabiki stared at Ukyou. If what she said about Ryouga was true...

Somehow, she new that it was. She had looked through her information on Ryouga on the way here. He lived with his son, and made daily visits to the records departments. The only woman he'd had contact with was his son's fiancee... The realisation only added to her growing melancholy.

He's stayed faithful to her... 

As Ukyou spoke on, bringing up happier subjects, Nabiki's mind wandered back to her 'liaisons'. They had been... interesting, filling a small need. But the larger need, the one that ate at her control daily, wouldn't be filled by sex, no matter how passionate it was...

She began to imagine the couple as they might have been, had the tragedies that led Ukyou to this place not happened. Ryouga, coming home, maybe having lost his wandering ways... more than likely using that dog of his, she thought with a smirk. Ukyou greeting him cheerfully, cooking her famous okonomiyaki for their dinner. Little Kioku playing happily with a possible little brother or sister...

In Nabiki's mind, time sped by almost as fast as it seemed to in her own life. The happiness for the couple lasted that fleeting lifetime, Ukyou providing Ryouga with the necessary joy to break his depression, Ryouga giving Ukyou the stability she needs to run her business, to run the household, to... to live in peace. The children grew, the family thrived.

Nabiki's vision, for a reason she could not fathom, focused on Ukyou, lying in a hospital bed, very old now. Ryouga was weeping as her whispers of love trailed off, and her breathing, and heartbeat, stopped. In her mind, he walked outside, wept, with a final cry of sorrow, blasted the air with his ultimate technique. His son walked him home.

Nabiki swallowed, blinked, and smiled out of her reverie. How weird. 

Ukyou was still chatting away, but Nabiki hadn't been listening. - I hope she hadn't asked a question.- 

The slip of her imagination had brought back some memories. Ryouga's ultimate technique, the Sassy Slowdance or something like that... Where had she seen that before?

Bomb testing. 

The realisation hit Nabiki like a sunbeam. It all became clear. -This would solve a huge problem... As long as sis stays stubborn.- As soon as it clarified, it was again obscured by conscience. -That's her home! I don't care how long I've wanted that land...- 

She shushed herself as the numbers poured in anew. Her eyes lit up as Ukyou yawned.

"Oh, Ukyou, you must be getting tired. I should go." As she rose, she noticed the slightly disappointed look in Ukyou's eyes. She cringed inside.

"OK, Nabiki." Ukyou forced a smile. "Take care of yourself, OK?"

The goodbyes were more forced than Nabiki had wanted them to be. After promising to tell Ryouga she missed him, and promising to visit again soon, a promise she definitly intended to keep, Nabiki almost fled into then parking lot. She caught her breath near the Limo. -Ukyou, I swear, as soon as I... finish some things... I'm getting you out of there!- 

As he opened the car door, her chauffeur asked her, "How was your visit with Hibiki-san, Madame?"

She smiled softly as the wheels of 'plan B' turned unfettered. "I found it most... enlightening."

After noticing his watchful gaze in the rear-view, she instructed him to drive. But as she left the car, she slipped him a key to her bed-chamber.

Takamoshi watched nervously as Tendo Nabiki drove away. "I tell you, Gosunkugi-san; she's up to something."

Gosunkugi's pandering voice flitted over the headset. "Whatever she's planning is probably for her own ends. She's far too embroiled in her business plans to pay attention to the mumblings of a mentasl patient." Gosunkugi disconnected the line and radioed the chauffer. "Keep an eye on her. If anything happens, let me know."

Seeing that Tendo-san was engrossed in her figures, he quietly acknowledged his orders.

[USE CORPORATE HEADQUARTERS, JUNE 6th, 2024

"C'mon Doc, it's a sweet deal! Large spacious place, free of-"

Nabiki was cut off for what seemed the hundredth time by a gentle male voice on the other end. She was the only person left at USE that still used the old style 'vocal-interface' phones. Her eyebrows rolled as she heard the same argument for the fiftieth time.

"No offence, Tofu, but I'll tell you what I told Kasumi. Get in the 21st century, will you? Nobody does the 'stay in the family house thing anymore!" She listened again, then slumped her shoulders. "Are you sure? All right, Tofu. OK. Tell Kasumi and Bell-chan I love them. Bye bye."

She hung up, dejected. She really hadn't wanted to go with that plan, but now she saw no choice. She signed the paper labelled "Field Test" and checked the calendar. Yes. That would be perfect.

Her phone on her desk began to ring again. "Tendo Nabiki."

Her eyebrows went up in amusement. -Perfect timing, 'P-Chan'.-

"I'll be there tonight. 6:00 OK? All right then. Bye now!" She hung up the phone, and began planning her outfit for the very special visit.

---

Bow. Sweep kick low, spinning to a high roundhouse. Three punches high, four low, turn, kick, turn, punch, jump and kick high.

Ryouga pushed his kata faster, battling the depression and frustration of his earlier failure. He had just received Ukyou's latest letter. It was mostly a series of black felt pen lines. 

-I can't get her out, I can't see her, and they censor her letters! Dammit, what the hell good am I?-

As he flung his fist to the ground from his position in the air, he screamed his attack's battle cry.

"BAKSAII TEN-"

There was a knock at the door.

In the old days, that distraction would have shattered his concentration, causing him to shatter the floor rather than stopping. As it was, his finger stopped two millimetres away from his target. Grabbing a towel, he walked to the door, still sweating from his workout. He put the towel over his bare shoulders and opened it.

Tendo Nabiki, dressed in a low cut blouse and an extremely short skirt, smiled up at him. "Ryouga-kun. It's been a long time."

Ryouga smiled back, feeling his nose heat up. He knew he wouldn't bleed though. Ukyou had been very... helpful in curing him of that weakness.

"Come in, Nabiki. Thank you for coming. It's been a while."

Nabiki's brow furrowed, ever so slightly, but she quickly regained her composure. -I was almost positive this outfit would make him hemorrhage! Now what am I going to do for evidence?-

She had come with a 'plan B', but for some reason, seeing him now... it just didn't seem right. She smiled at him, a smile meant to at least break him into a sweat, but by that time he was already turned toward the kitchen, following arrows placed on the walls. When she looked closer, she recognised Kioku's handwriting indicating where the arrows lead.

Ryouga made it to the kitchen with ease thanks to his son's directions.

He began to make tea for the guest. "I hope I'm not keeping you from a date or anything."

"No, not really," she said in low tones, walking to the door. "How can I help you, Ryouga?" She looked up at him to bat her eyelids, but he was concentrating on the tea. Unheard by Ryouga, a low grunt of frustration escaped her throat.

"I need your help. Someone has a... hold over me, and it's keeping me from getting Ukyou out of the hospital." Ryouga made a fist with his free hand. "I could have gotten her out years ago if it hadn't been for that pompous, long-winded..." He sighed, reining in is frustration. "Anyway, I can't get Ukyou out with Gosunkugi holding Kioku's future over my head."

Nabiki nearly laughed out loud. "Who would have thought that little Hikaru's kid would be so... ruthless?" Mentally, she was getting frustrated with Ryouga. 

-Here I am, putting everything I have into trying to turn him on, and he's not even looking at me! - Nabiki looked at her outfit. She prided herself with still having the body she had grown into as a teenager. The outfit she wore only added to her long, smooth curves.

-So why the hell isn't he looking at me?- 

Before long, the tea was done, and they adjourned into the main living room.

Ryouga outlined his problem, while Nabiki listened intently. She had decided to concentrate on Ryouga's problem, and was now lapsed into thoughtfulness, wondering how much information she had on the Gosunkugi. She was surprised to realise that it wasn't much.

"Ryouga, do you happen to have a fax?"

Ryouga blinked twice. "Yeah, I mean, I think Kioku has some fax thing on his computer..."

Nabiki jumped up and booted up the computer on the table in the next room. After making a call, she started the fax program.

"This will send me all the information I have on any one person." Her face softened at Ryouga's almost desperate expression. "Don't worry. I'll figure SOMETHING out, or I'm not Tendo Nabiki."

As they waited, they spoke of mundane things. Kioku's graduation, Nabiki's businesses, and Kasumi's daughter, Belladonna. Nabiki, in the meantime, studied Ryouga, looking for a weakness she could exploit as much out of habit as out of need to go forward with her plan. He didn't offer as much of an opportunity as he would have in their younger days. He was more confident, or at least more cautious. Every time she'd notice his eyes roaming down to her cleavage or the hem of her skirt, he would avert his gaze. Ryouga, my boy, she thought, smirking inwardly, you are far too honourable for my own good. The conversation continued as small talk, never occupying Nabiki's mind fully. It never had. She had trained herself to use small talk as a tool, not a pastime. But, before long, the computer beeped, signalling that the task had been completed.

They walked into the room, and Nabiki took the paper from the printer.

"'Gosunkugi Kyoofu. Age: 20. Parents: Gosunkugi Hikaru (missing), Gosunkugi Akari, nee Unryuu (missing). Present occupation: Medical assistant at... USE.' Well, well, well!"

Ryouga strained over to see. "What," he asked, impatient as always.

Nabiki clucked her tongue and waved him away.

"'Criminal Record: None, Address, Medical History, Schooling. End of File?" Nabiki looked at the paper in shock. "He works for me, and that's all I have?"

Ryouga sat heavily into a nearby chair. "Well, I guess I just have to keep looking for another way..."

Nabiki turned on him, her eyes ablaze. "Oh, no you don't, Ryouga! You are not giving up like that! All I need is more time!" She saw the defeat in his eyes, and tried anger, out of desperation. "Don't tell me you're giving up on Ukyou now, too?"

It worked.

"NO!" Ryouga began to pace. "It's just that everything I've tried has only met with... failure. I can't get her out legally, I can't break her out... I just don't know what to do." Ryouga's familiar depression began to settle on him like a dark shroud. Nabiki stared at him, as if noticing him for the first time.

Nabiki had always thought of her self as emotionally stable. Sometimes, she had been described as cold. It was not an impression that she liked, but it also wasn't anything she cared to disprove, either.

Lately, though, she'd been feeling strained emotionally. Almost ready to snap. She'd tried everything she could; men, exercise. Only her business dealings were enough to keep her feelings at bay. She could now feel her resolve cracking. She slumped into a chair opposite him, thinking of a way to help him.

-He's not giving up. - She began to look him up and down. Her eyes rested on his muscled chest, hard won from a lifetime of martial arts training. She saw the lines of his face, leaner than in their youth, but still... rather handsome...

She quickly derailed that thought. Or at least, tried to. She looked up past his chin, over his lips, the bridge of his nose, until she finally locked with his eyes.

Eyes that were full of raw pain.

Eyes that were full of kindness, kindness that had always been seen but never noticed.

Eyes that reminded her... of days that now seemed so long ago...

Nabiki turned away to try to hide her tears.

Ryouga noticed. "Nabiki? I- I'm not giving up. It's just so hard sometimes, you know?"

Nabiki nodded, her throat too closed to do anything else.

Ryouga leaned forward in his chair. "Are you OK?"

Nabiki sniffed. "No. No, I'm not OK." She turned to him, tears she had long ago refused to shed brimming over her eyes. "I keep trying to run from it, but it won't go away. I can't help but think that if my stupid sister had seen in you what I see now, instead of falling for that macho jerk, maybe she wouldn't have let him drag her down-" A sob interrupted her thoughts.

Ryouga looked at her, shocked at this thought that had come from no where out of the distant past. What shocked him more was that he agreed with her.

Nabiki began to cry in earnest. Years of torment, grief, and pain shed themselves in salty tears. As her sobbing subsided, she became aware that she was being held by warm, strong arms. A soothing voice drifted from above her as a strong hand gently stroked her hair. The words, unheeded until now, were not as important as the comfort they brought. The warmth of Ryouga's chest, the gentleness of his touch and voice, and the strength of her previously suppressed emotion pushed action from her.

She rose against his chest and gently pressed her lips to his. Ryouga didn't react, at first. As they stared into each other's eyes, Nabiki again gently caressed his lips with her own. The gentle encouragement was all he needed, and he tightened his hold to her as the kiss lingered. Warmth slowly turned to heat, and two minds blanked of everything but each other.

As they progressed into another room, one thought flickered through a heated mind, unheeded.

-Plan B has begun...- 

She awoke, sweating, almost panicked, not knowing where she was. Beside her, in the bed, was a softly sleeping form. As the haze burned away from her mind, she remembered.

-Oh, Deity.- 

It wasn't the first time she had woken up with that feeling. But as she watched the form asleep beside her, a sick feeling spread in her stomach.

-I never meant for this to happen.- 

At first, the sickness threatened to overwhelm her. Then, her natural defences kicked in.

-Where is it? Oh, deity, what if I forgot...- 

She hadn't. It was there, to the side of the bed. If she hurried, she'd still have time. She grabbed it up, careful not to spill what was inside. She had truly prepared for this, even if she had decided it wasn't a good idea. The condom was specially treated to preserve it's contents.

She stopped, and looked at Ryouga, sleeping peacefully. A soft smile crossed her lips.

"Thank you, Ryouga. You've helped me more than you know." -And I don't just mean with my plans...- 

She dashed off a note, then hurried outside. She had to get to the USE offices before the sample lost all viability...

Ryouga awoke, head pounding, body more tired than any workout he had ever put himself through.

-I haven't felt this good since... - His eyes snapped wide open, and he sat bolt upright in the bed. -Deity, no...- 

He looked around, frantically, praying he had merely been victim of over-active hormones as he had sometimes in the past. The note, left on a pillow beside him, shattered that hope.

Ryouga,

This night was truly a night to remember. Thank you for treating me so kindly. You have given me something I needed. Hospitality, someone to lean on, and most importantly, comfort during a dark time in my life. I will always remember your kindness and warmth. Please forgive me for leaving so soon...

Perhaps it's better this way.

Nabiki

Ryouga stared at the note, the night before coming to him in bits and pieces. Nabiki had started to cry, he... held her... and then...

She kissed him.

And he did nothing to prevent it.

She had not seduced him, she hadn't pushed herself on him. She kissed him, and he crumbled.

Images of Ukyou flooded his mind then, trying desperately to drown out the recent memory. The happy images he tried to conjure changed to angry visages of his wife, then weeping. It broke his heart to imagine her crying, as much as it had when he had witnessed it.

The images morphed again, to a time very long ago, when he and Ukyou had first met. She had arranged for him to go on a date with Akane, and everything was actually going well. That is, until Ranma showed up. With one pathetic disguise, he'd brought Ryouga to shame, and shaken what had been the very foundation of himself: his love for Akane.

Later, he was to realise that what he had taken as a crumbling of his world had been the mistake of a teenage boy. But at the time, it was as if his heart had been ripped in two by his betrayal of his 'one true love'.

Now, he truly had betrayed someone. His wife.

His Oko-chan.

And it hadn't been a trick of a jealous boy, it had been something he could have stopped. Something he could have prevented. He had taken his own needs into consideration before those of his wife's. And worse, he had truly loved the woman he was now guilty of hurting.

The note crumpled as his fist balled up, and singed as the flames of depression were fuelled to capacity. Ryouga placed his head in his hands, and wept.

"Oko-chan... I'm sorry..."

Ryouga had a record month. He had gone the entire time without getting lost.

Mainly because he hadn't left his house.

Only after the explosion was reported did Ryouga come out of his stupor.

The news, told to him by his red-faced, panting son, shocked him deeply. Someone had destroyed the Ono clinic/household. But the shock didn't end. While listening to the story on the news for the fiftieth time, Ono Kasumi was found within the wreckage. She had been severely injured, and was being rushed to the hospital. Ryouga blanched. -Deity.- 

A knock pulled him from his reverie. He walked mechanically, still listening to the story on the news, and opened the front door.

In the second it took for his muddled reflexes to react, he was on the floor and cold metal braces were placed on his hands and feet. A detective walked in seconds later, after an all clear sign had been shouted outside. 

"Hibiki Ryouga?" he asked, voice clear and commanding.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?"

"I'll take that as a 'yes'." The detective sobered after his little jest. "I do apologise for this treatment, Hibiki-san, but given your history in dealing with law enforcement, we felt it was the safest way for all involved. Hibiki Ryouga, you are charged with the destruction of the Ono Chiropractic and Moxibustion clinic, and the severe injury of one Ono Kasumi."

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. He was processed, searched, and put in a cell. The idea that he could have willingly hurt Kasumi drove any thought of any kind of action, violent or otherwise, out of his mind.

He went through everything stiffly, as if his soul had detached from his body and stood by to watch what was going on. The police treated him with professionalism, even respect in most cases. Everything flitted through his mind at once.

-Kasumi's hurt, I need to visit her. 

I'm supposed to visit Oko-chan Saturday... 

Kioku's turn to cook tonight...- 

"Name."

The statement shocked him to awareness. He was at a desk, with a policeman, who was preparing to type his information into the computer.

"Hibiki Ryouga."

"Occupation." The voice was dispassionate, professional, even a little cold. The information was not asked for, but rather made as a statement. He typed dispassionately, and then gestured for the guard to take Ryouga away.

He was led to a large, dimly lit room, with sections separated by bars. A door was opened, and he was lead inside. Before the guard left, Ryouga turned to him.

"Why?"

The guard looked perplexed, and blinked in surprise. "Why what, sir?"

"Why am I here?" Ryouga's confusion began to surface. "Why am I being charged with hurting Kasumi?"

"Sir, I am not-"

Ryouga looked at him, eyes full of hurt and anger. "Ono Kasumi practically raised my son. She has shown me nothing but kindness. Why would I of all people want her hurt?"

The officer closed his eyes. He walked out of the cell, closed the door behind him, and pulled to make sure it was locked. Then he walked to the side of the cell where Ryouga had slumped on the one cot.

He crouched down, and whispered to him. "If I get caught telling you this, it will be my job. Supposedly you were inside of the clinic when you found a letter, addressed to you, from a Miss Tendo Akane, blaming you for her suicide."

-No.- 

"The theory is that you saw the letter, became upset, and blasted the clinic with your ki-technique. Ono Kasumi was inside at the time, and was trapped by a fallen wall."

-Deity, no.- 

Ryouga stared at the wall, lips trembling in anger, in frustration, and deep, deep sadness. "Why do people think I did it?" he whispered, more to himself than the guard.

The guard answered anyway. "First of all, you are the only person left in Nerima who knows how to do that technique. Secondly, there were tissue samples that were genetically identified as being yours."

Ryouga looked confused. The memory of that fateful night came back.

-Nabiki...- 

"Thank you," was all he said. The guard left him in silence. Ryouga tossed and turned that night, betrayed by his dreams as he was by his 'friend'.

The weeks passed by slowly. It fit Ryouga's mood perfectly. Kioku had come to visit him whenever he had time. During one of those visits, Ryouga had broken down.

"You WHAT?" Kioku's face showed shock, but no anger. "You- you had an affair?"

Ryouga nodded, shamefaced. His head hung limply between his hunched shoulders. "I couldn't bear to see your mother's face when she found out..."

Kioku stared, his face, his body going numb. His father, the man he had practically idolized, who had taught him what honor was, had failed.

His father, who had held him up to the highest standards of honor, could now not look him in the eye.

"How?" He knew his voice was strained, knew that more disappointment had come through than even he had wanted to. But he needed to know. Ryouga's shoulders slumped, even more than they had been. He had heard the disappointment in his son's voice.

Kioku cleared his throat. "Pop," he started, "look at me."

After several seconds, Ryouga looked up.

"What you did, was it... I mean..." He began to blush madly, frank talk about women being a weakness he had definitely gotten from his father. "What I mean is, did you... more than once-"

"NO!" Ryouga's voice came out louder than he had desired, and he looked nervously at the guard. He hadn't budged. "No. It was... a moment of weakness."

Kioku relaxed visibly. "OK then. I think I can understand where you might have been tempted, maybe even wanted it, but I know you, Pop. I know that you love Mom as much as any man has ever loved a woman. And I think Mom knows that, too."

Ryouga smiled at his son. His fears were not relieved, because Kioku barely knew his mother, but it was nice to hear all the same. "Thank you, son."

Ryouga sat in silence for a couple of uncomfortable moments when he arrived on a topic that he felt was safe. "So, how are you and Asuka getting along?"

Ryouga hadn't exactly approved of his son dating an older woman, especially one whose only desire seemed the conquest of his son. But she had changed, and while a bit obsessive at times, she was, in the very least, devoted to him. Sometimes, she reminded him of Kunou Kodachi (Times that made him shudder), but she was kind to his son, and he truly seemed to care for her.

Besides, any topic would have been preferable to the one they had just been talking about.

Also, it was worth it to see the blush on his son's face.

They talked for the rest of the visiting time, then Ryouga was sent to his cell.

Kioku was his only visitor until after the first of the year.

"Hibiki! You have a visitor."

He was lead out to see a face that in his dreams drove him to anger. The way it looked now, it also drove him to pity.

Tendo Nabiki was a mess. Her face was puffed, her hair dishevelled,and her clothes didn't reflect a businesswoman on the rise, but a woman in despair. In her eyes was a desperation, as if she truly had no where to turn. Part of him pitied her, wanted to reach out to her.

The other part of him hoped she was getting what she deserved.

"Why are you here?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

Her eyes darkened, as if she had expected this despite her hope for warmth. "I came to apologise."

He glared at her. "Too late. That genetic material they found at the blast site. That was why you came to me, isn't it. That was why you slept with me."

Nabiki's thin mask shattered. Her eyes went wide, and tears, real tears, sprang to them. "NO! Ryouga, you have to believe me! I didn't come there to sleep with yo-"

He would have none of it. "I saw your note. 'You have given me something I needed.' I didn't know what that meant until I was arrested."

She wilted under his hot gaze. "I never meant for this to happen, Ryouga. I... that night, I was only..."

"Only using me for your own ends." He leaned into the glass, the handset moved so that she could see his face. "You used me, Nabiki. You used Akane's name, you used your sister, and you USED ME! I thought you were my friend, but all you have ever done is use the ones who care about you. And Deity help me, I did." He could see her shoulders slumping, see the hot tears flow down her cheek, but he didn't care.

Then her mask fell into place, hard. "I won't bother you again after today, Ryouga. And I did care for you, too, though I won't waste our time convincing you of that. You'll be out soon. Goodbye, Hibiki-san."

With that, she stood and left, her shoulders slumped, and her head held high. Ryouga burned her back with his stare.

He went back to his cell and fell into another fitful sleep.

---

Nabiki watched the timer go down.

Lost. Everything was lost.

She had killed her sister, all in the name of money. She had used one of her last friends, an honourable man, to cover her tail. She had ruined the lives of the kindest man in the world, and the most beautiful niece a woman could want.

And in the process, lost them all.

1:30... 1:29... 1:28... 

Tears, hot and salty, poured down her cheeks. She had tried to make everything right. The condo for the family, USE for the pain Ryouga had suffered... All empty gestures. Even in the end, the best way she could think of to rectify her mistakes was with money. Money had always solved her problems in the past.

But none of it would bring back Kasumi.

0:49... 0:48... 0:47... 

She had disappointed everyone, made a mess of everything. Daddy would have been furious. Akane would have been mortified. Even the macho Ranma would have thought she was nuts. Everyone hated her, or would have.

Everyone but the person she'd killed.

Everyone but Kasumi herself.

0:23... 0:22... 0:21... 

Only Kasumi would have forgiven her. In her nightmares, she did.

She stood at Mother's grave, and watched in horror as the ground trembled, then turned up, revealing the now rotted casket. She nearly screamed as it slowly opened.

There, burned almost beyond recognition, was Kasumi. 'It's all right, Nabiki-chan. I forgive you, little sister.

She had woken up screaming every night for the last month.

0:11... 0:10... 0:09... 

The nightmare's would end soon. She would have finally paid for all the hurt, all the suffering she had caused.

0:07... 

Akane's imaged flashed in her mind, watched, sadly, frusterated. Nabiki thought she saw her mouth, you didn't have to do this...

0:05... 

Tears flowed from Nabiki's eyes. "I love you, Akane..."

0:03... 

Nabiki closed her eyes.

0:02... 

A sob escaped her lips, no longer held back by her facade.

0:01... 

-Onee-chan... I'm sorry, sis...- 

0:00... 

There was light.

Then there was darkness.

--- 

Hibiki Ryouga's world was beginning to change. He didn't like it one bit. He had been released after the second explosion, done with the same type of weaponry, happened while he was in jail.

They had also found samples of his 'genetic material' in the labs at USE. A company he now owned, in full. Which meant Gosunkugi Kyoofu no longer had a hold on him. He and Dr. Tofu were leaving the company. So much the better, probably. Even though he was exonerated, he still could not bring himself to face the Doctor.

Tofu was not the only person he could not face. His own wife was becoming a stranger to him.

He had tried to visit with her after he had gotten out of prison. The shame of his affair coupled with the paranoia Ukyou had manifested lately had made that visit nothing more than a strained exercise in futility. It had ended with him blurting out 'I'm sorry' and heading for the nearest exit.

As the years passed, He kept trying to visit. He had ended up getting lost. Kuroshiro had gone blind. She could still travel within the house, but could not find her direction any better than Ryouga. Kioku had made himself busy with work, and his marriage to Asuka. Ryouga had tried to go himself, but in the thirteen times he tried to make the trip, he had ended up in three hotels, two bathrooms, four dojo's, and a pagoda somewhere in China. The other three times, it had started raining...

After sometime, he had merely given up. In all that time, he had received one letter. Surrounded by the censors and tear stains was one sentence:

"Ryo-chan, were have you been."

[TOKYO INSTITUTE FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE, OCT. 15 2038 1:54 PM

-C'mon, Hibiki! It's her Birthday, for crying out loud!- 

Ryouga's hand tightened on the handle of the institution door, trembling slightly. He stared at it in wonder. He could have counted on one hand the number of times his hands had shaken in fear during his life time. That number had doubled in the last four months. Whether it had been monsters, or Saotome, or even a herd of pigs, he had never had that deep since of foreboding. Only the prospect of being splashed in front of Akane had made him tremble. Now, it seemed, the prospect of seeing his wife gave him the same sense of failure, failure that a martial arts technique could not rectify.

In the past, that fear had always driven him to action. And it did this time, as well.

He walked away from the door.

His depression was severe, but he had learned to handle it without the green hued light show that had marked him in the past. He walked, head down, out the gates of the Tokyo Institute for the Criminally Insane.

Then he turned back. -The time for running is over.-

After all, it was her birthday.

His hand touched the handle, and he pulled the door open. The nurse at the reception desk looked up at him as he walked up to her.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes," Ryouga said, his voice husky with emotion. "I'm here to see my wife, Hibiki Ukyou."

The nurse looked through her paperwork, and then stopped. She looked up at him, straining to keep her face under control.

"I'm sorry, Hibiki-san. She... She died early this morning."

Ryouga's face paled to a sickly white, and he staggered against the desk. "What- How... ?"

"She went into cardiac arrest at around three o'clock this morning. The doctors did everything they could, but..." The sight before the nurse stopped her explanation in cold terror.

Ryouga was glowing dark, fiery green. There was no anger in his face, but the fire engulfing him threatened to destroy the entire building.

He turned, slowly, and walked out the door.

He found his way home with ease. But it didn't matter.

Ryouga had never felt more lost.

FIN


	8. The R Files

**THE R-FILES**

**BEGIN FILE OT-1-R-26: ALPHA CLEARANCE**

She reached for him, her long brown hair swaying in a non-existent breeze. A harsh white glow surrounded the form, making it an almost painful pleasure to look at her for any length of time, and yet he could not tear his gaze away. Not for a moment. Not from... Not from his wife.

Tofu put his hand out to meet hers, and then felt It.

The Barrier.

A crystal shield; an invisible, infinite plane that separated his night from her day, a division which She didn't seem to notice...

He pounded on it, shouting, but his screams were as inaudible to Her as her own mutterings to him. Throughout the whole ordeal, she only smiled and giggled, oblivious to the pain the isolation caused him, cupping her hand over her mouth, as if to say, 'Oh, what a silly husband...'.

But she could say it no more.

Green tendrils sprouted from the ground and wrapped around Kasumi, dragging her away; away from sight, away from touch, away from hearing...

"Otoosan?"

The room's light came on with a click, bringing Dr. Ono Tofu back from the surreal meadow and into the mundane world of drapes and comforters. His body was covered in a layer of cold sweat.

"Belladonna... I..."

Bell-Chan smiled weakly. Kasumi's smile.

"The same dream again?"

"H-hai..." She looked so much like her mother... Except for the lighter-coloured hair, and the slightly firmer features from HIS line, they could have been sisters... "It was okaasan... I..." Belladonna sat down next to him on the bed, and placed her arms around his neck.

"It's been hard on us both," she said, then stopped. Somehow, there was nothing comforting, nothing appropriately warm or sympathetic, to say after that.

There was an awkward pause.

"I don't think either of us will be going back to sleep," she continued, after clearing her throat. "I'll go down and make some tea."

Belladonna disengaged herself from her father, stood up, and walked a few steps towards the door before turning back. "I'm not mother, but I made some cookies earlier today." She grinned. "I thought you'd like them."

"Oh, Bell-Chan... I..." Tofu covered his face with his hands, and cried softly.

"I know, otoosan," whispered Belladonna. "I know..."

They sat silently in the kitchen for a long time, each one staring at the tea leaves gently swaying in their cups' thermal currents, and deliberately avoiding eye contact.

There was nothing that needed to be vocalised.

They understood each other; they knew what each was thinking, and they also knew that what they needed now was to be alone. To reflect. To look back. To think ahead.

And yet... There was ONE thing that had not been shared. A single fact that turned this nightmare into more than that; into a twisted fantasy. And now the time had come for its disclosure.

Tofu sipped his oolong brew, then leaned back in the wicker chair. He sighed, adjusted the folds of his dark blue kimono, and looked up.

"It wasn't Ryouga," he said absently.

Belladonna blinked.

"Otoosan?"

"The explosion... It wasn't him..."

"Father, I think you've had too little sleep; the stress is getting

to you... Why don't you take the day off tomorrow? We can go to the beach, and..."

"NO." The doctor's voice, now. Commanding, not paternal. Bell-chan knew better than to try to interfere when her parent was in this mood. She would wait, as she always did, let him speak his fill, and then tell him precisely why it was that she was right and he was wrong. Then, he would acquiesce. For almost twenty years, that had been the way of it. No matter how firm his initial resolution, how stubborn his opinions, the dear man couldn't ever go against the wishes of his wife or daughter. So, she smiled, smoothed her night-gown, and prepared to listen.

"You know that Nabiki left USE to Ryouga. Tameshi is a salaried president; he doesn't actually OWN it."

"Hai. So you've told me. All her relatives were dead, except for us, and Auntie Tendo KNEW that you didn't want to have to run the company... Hibiki-san was the only person she could think of... Especially since she wasn't counting on that accident."

"That wasn't why she did it."

"What do you mean?"

"She had a reason."

"Oh?"

Tofu closed his eyes, as if to bring past events closer in his mind.

"After the trial, I spoke with Kioku. They wouldn't let me see Ryouga, but his son... He told me something about his father." The eyes opened, and focused on Belladonna's own. "They have a very close relationship, those two. More like brothers than anything else. They share everything."

"Who else would they share it WITH, otoosan?"

The elder Ono nodded.

"Exactly." A pause. "Kioku told me of his father's guilt."

"I thought you said Ryouga was inno..."

He waved her comment into silence.

"I did. He is innocent of the explosion."

"Father, there was a trial. With evidence. They found that letter, and

the DNA tests confirmed it. You YOURSELF ran the scans! YOU were the one who told me that it had been his full Shishi Houkodan!"

The doctor ignored her.

"When Nabiki died, I was there for the clearing of her office. They needed her next-of-kin, and I was the closest match. I found something in her desk. A note pad."

"Note pad?"

"Yes. The pages were all blank, but at the bottom of the first one, I saw the impression of a word that had been written on the previous sheet."

"Which was?"

"Akane." Silence. "Her forged signature."

"A coincidence," said Bell-Chan, shaking her head. "Auntie Nabiki...

She... I mean... She COULDN'T!"

"I ran it through the computer. After I removed all the numbers that had been imprinted, all that was left was a copy of the letter that supposedly had angered Ryouga. A perfect copy."

"Chichi, STOP IT!" Belladonna was crying. "Okaasan is hurt, and we're both in pain WITH her, but that's no reason to... To..."

"To tell the truth?"

"What truth? There's NO ONE TO BLAME, otoosan. You wish there were. I wish there were, so I could wring their necks, but you have to FACE it! Ryouga found an old letter, he exploded, and without meaning to trapped mother!"

"There's more."

"I won't listen to it."

"After that, I went through the medical department's records. There had been cloning done without my permission. A lot of it, and the rest of the sample was still in the freezer, almost as if I was MEANT to find it. No one had bothered to hide the records, or even the evidence."

"I'm not hearing this."

"The cloned material was Ryouga's."

"Otoosan..."

"It was Ryouga's sperm. THAT was his guilt. Nabiki had seduced him.

And now, I know why." Tofu took a cookie from the plate on the table and nibbled on it. "She was even MORE vicious than I had given her credit for."

Belladonna looked at him, unmoving. Her face was blank, and her eyes cold.

"It was an ACCIDENT," she enunciated carefully. "Nothing more."

"No? Then why do I see your mother?"

"See her?"

"She comes to me, every day. I'll be at work, and she will stand in front of me, smiling, reaching out... Would her ghost be haunting me if there was nothing to be avenged?"

"Okaasan is ALIVE!"

"You call that LIFE?"

"She breathes, she thinks! She is not DEAD, father! And even if she were... The only 'ghosts' there are are those created by your own mind. PLEASE father... PLEASE snap out of it! I need you... I can't THINK of... Of LOSING you this way... Not NOW..."

Tofu shook his head.

"I am not mad, Bell-Chan. Not yet. In fact..." He looked down, then up, and the kitchen's fluorescent light reflected for a moment off his glasses. "In fact, I don't think I have ever seen more clearly."

Belladonna wiped her tears dry, and pushed aside the chestnut strands that had fallen over her face.

"It's almost dawn," she said. "Let's start a new life today. Promise me you will see someone about this, Otoosan."

"About what, Bell-chan?"

"Your dreams. Your visions."

Tofu nodded, and smiled.

"How can I say no to my little Beru?"

"Today, this ends."

"Today it ends."

Tofu knocked on the decrepit wooden door, sending a few chips of green paint flying as he did so.

"Come in, Ono-san."

He swung the portal open, and cringed at the resulting squeal of rusty hinges rubbing against each other.

"It always surprises me how easily you identify me." He shook his head. "I've been a doctor for decades, and STILL I don't know how you do it."

"There can be sight even when the eyes are lost," said Cologne. "Sight beyond the limits of your 'medicine'." She smiled.

Grotesque, that anything that looked so twisted still could manage to turn up the corners of its mouth into a skullish grin.

She'd had the appearance of a ghoul, before, but now that Shampoo had plucked out her eyes, she looked like Baba Yaga out of some child's fairy-tale. And yet... She was the only one who could help him... And I promised Bell-chan...

"What brings you to ME, Doctor Ono?" There was a deliberate emphasis on the honorific. She was well aware that Tofu preferred not to meddle in magic. "It is not often that I have the... pleasure... of your distinguished company."

"A ghost."

"Oh?" Cologne raised an eyebrow. "Whose? Nabiki's? Akane's?"

"Kasumi's."

The edges of the ancient Amazon's eye sockets contracted in a now-unnecessary reflex.

"She is still alive, Ono-san. Or is she?"

Tofu nodded.

"For the moment. She cannot move, or breathe alone, but she is kept alive. Her heart beats, she thinks... But STILL she haunts me."

"Sit down, Ono-san," Cologne said quietly. He did. "Tell me all about it."

"I'll be at work, and she will walk into the room... She'll nod, and smile, and twist her head to the side like she always does... And I'll just stand there, paralysed, almost as delirious as when I was a lad of twenty... SOMETHING disturbs her soul, Cologne. SOMETHING does not allow her to rest, and so her spirit stays... WITH her body."

"You do not think she ought to be alive?"

"Her wounds are bad. There's nerve damage, which we can't clone... Not yet..."

"And still you leave her on those machines of yours."

"I have my hopes. Nabiki left instructions that she was to be kept alive at ANY cost, and that's what I've been working for, with the rest of the company. I was hoping that..."

"That you could use the knowledge gained to bring Kasumi back to health. I see..."

"H... Hai, Cologne. That was my plan." A pause. "That IS my plan."

The two-foot witch absent-mindedly fingered her staff, and stroked her chin. There was a minute or two of silent contemplation before she spoke again.

"It is not a ghost that you are dealing with, Ono-san, but the spirit's SHADE. It is merely her impression on your mind. You will not let her go; a part of her remains attached to you, and it is THAT you see; it's THAT which visits you. Kasumi herself is on that hospital bed. I have known of cases in which the living have ghosts, but..." She shook her head. "This is not one of them."

"A shade of a spirit?" asked the Doctor.

"The ghost of a ghost, if you will."

"You can not help me, then? I promised Bell-chan I would..."

"I did not say that, Ono-san. Though not a spirit, it can yet be put to rest."

"How may I do that?"

"Only YOU can know, for it is a projection of YOUR essence. You know best what thing it is that keeps it on this plane; that links it to your soul instead of to her own."

"I think I know, Cologne." The tears welled in his eyes. "I think I know."

"It is not seemly for a man like you to cry in front of me, doctor."

She smiled again. "It's getting late. Your colleagues are expecting you at work."

"I thank you, Cologne... How much..."

"You owe me nothing. I used no magic. This was only the advice of...Of one friend to another."

"Arigato."

"You are welcome, Ono-san."

Doctor Ono had barely placed his shoes at the entrance to his office when Gosunkugi Kyoofu sprang from his monitor and ran towards him. The fact

that he knocked over his chair in the process only meant that he stumbled slightly while doing so.

"Tofu-sensei!" he shouted. "Where have you been? We've been trying to get to you ALL MORNING!"

"I've been busy," he replied, then frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"It's... It's your wife..."

"Go on. What about Kasumi?" He knew what was going to be said, but held no fear. He'd dreaded this moment for so long, that any panicking had long since been over and done with.

"She's..."

"Sou desu ka..."

"She's dead, Tofu-sensei."

His body went rigid for a moment - but only a moment. In less than a second it was limber again, and the only difference from his previous stance was a moist covering over his eyes, just barely noticeable through the glasses' lenses.

"When?" The tone was firm.

"About an hour ago." He considered this. Not bad... And if everything had gone as planned...

"Begin Project R."

"We... We can't."

"If it's funding, don't worry about it. I don't have much right now, but Kunou Tatewaki owes me a favour or two, especially since I now have access to Nabiki's files."

Kyoofu shook his head. His skin seemed even paler than was usual for a Gosunkugi.

"It's not that."

"The scorching, then? I told you... It shouldn't make any difference after what we've learned with Nabiki. We'll still be able to clone and regenerate it; it'll just take a while."

"No we won't."

"I doubt that, but even if that's the case, that's what the buffers are there for. Retrieve the old samples, and use THOSE. It'll take longer, granted, since we have to simulate the ageing, but we have all the time we need..."

"We have NO time, Tofu-sensei."

Ono's blood froze in his veins, and his arteries seemed to stop pumping.

"What... What do you mean?" Every syllable was emphasised.

"The brain's gone."

"WHAT?"

"The brain is gone. She... Your wife did not die on her own, Tofu-sensei. She was euthanised."

"On who's orders? And how?"

The son of Hikaru and Akari took a deep breath, then focused his black-lined eyes on the doctor's own.

"No orders. It was Bell-chan. She injected Kasumi with a strong basic solution, then unplugged the machines."

Bell-chan... Deity... Tofu's mind flashed back to that morning's conversation. "Today it ends," she had said, and he had agreed. But... He never thought... He'd never told her. He KNEW that she wouldn't have agreed to it, would've called it a travesty of nature, a perversion, but... Deity...What now?

"The... Basic solution... It..."

"Corrupted all the tissues, including the brain. We don't even have one percent." Kyoofu shuffled his feet and looked down. He looked uncertain as to what to do with his fingers. "I'm sorry, sensei."

Kasumi... Gone... It didn't quite sink in, emotionally. On an intellectual level, even, it was difficult to assimilate. He knew that she would die; the wounds were fatal, but he always assumed that he'd be able to bring her BACK. That was impossible, now. The brain could not be cloned.

But NABIKI'S... NABIKI'S mind had survived intact - or almost so... SHE was going to be resurrected, as the result of a project under HIS control. It wasn't fair! The victim punished, and the murderess let loose... No. It would not happen. If he could not heal his wife, he would not do so for the cause of his unhappiness. His face hardened, and he looked at his protegee.

"Stop the Lazarus Project. Now. I want it all halted. Wipe the data, destroy the machines, and cremate the body parts."

"Impossible, sensei."

"What do you MEAN, impossible? I'm CMO of USE, and I'm ORDERING you to dismantle the project. I'm also Nabiki's next-of-kin, and it's under THAT capacity that I ask for the body's cremation. STOP THE PROJECT!"

"The law won't allow it."

"WHAT law?"

"That card Tendo-san signed. The one which started the project."

"Yes? What about it?"

"She was thorough. You and I BOTH know that, sensei. It's legally binding. We can't do a THING that would endanger her possibilities of being brought back to life."

"Deity..."

"It's perverse, I know... I've already drafted my resignation. If you go, I will follow."

He waited for an answer, but his mentor simply stood there, looked away, and clenched his fists.

"Leave me." He bit his lip and closed his eyes.

"Sensei?"

"Leave me, Kyoofu. I... I need to be... Alone."

"H-hai... But... The funeral arrangements... Cremation... Belladonna said..."

"She may do as she likes." It's not like we'll be able to DO anything with the body... Not after THIS...

"Understood." Gosunkugi Kyoofu bowed, slipped on his sandals and left, not bothering even to right the overturned chair. The door closed softly behind him.

"So THAT'S why you haven't come to me," Tofu said to Kasumi. "You've been busy." His late wife had walked into the office wearing the pale lavender dress he'd given her on her birthday a few days back. She simply giggled at his comment, then smiled.

"She didn't know, Kasumi. Belladonna didn't KNOW what I had planned."

A cock of the head, and another smile. Ono slammed his fist against the wall.

"And NOW I'm going to have to allow Nabiki to be resurrected, after what... After what she did... I can't bear to let that happen. It's not RIGHT that she should survive, while you..." He gestured at the shade.

"Well, LOOK AT YOU! Neither here, nor there, not dead, nor alive, and about as able to communicate as when you were on that hospital bed!" He was inexperienced at dealing with anger, and his amateurish attempts to deal with the novel emotion led only to a trickle of blood from his lower lip. "There's still time... I could... I could tamper with the systems... Let her brain decay...Then..."

Kasumi gasped soundlessly and cupped her hand over her mouth in shock. Her accusatory glance was almost too much for Tofu to withstand.

"You're right," he sighed. "You always were..." He corrected himself.

"You always ARE. That wouldn't solve it. It'd only make me as bad as SHE. But you MUST be vindicated! There has to be SOME way to make things even; to make her go through the same pain she's put us all through... You, me, Bell-chan, Ryouga..."

His late wife shrugged, and smiled, and walked away. He reached to her.

"No! Wait! Don't go!"

She paused only long enough to turn and wave goodbye, then proceeded through the computer bank on the far wall.

She was gone.

Tofu stared at where she'd disappeared, lost in thought, and then something caught his eye.

Kyoofu had left his terminal on, and the monitor was currently displaying information on their latest 'find'.

"Yatto!" whispered the doctor to himself.

He picked up a nearby hand-set.

"Dialup? This is Ono Tofu, CMO. Connect me to the Kunou Foundation."

**A few days later; USE medical HQ receiving room**

As expected, Kunou Tatewaki's entrance into USE was grandiose. An escort of cowled, shaven monks preceded him, and formed two rows to flank their master. When he came into the room, they all fell prostate before him, letting their orange robes sweep around them in a vaguely B-ish pattern.

The Blue Thunder's stride was obviously rehearsed. He took long, equally measured and paced steps, and kept his eyes firmly on the one who had summoned him here.

"It's been a while, Tatewaki," said Tofu.

"You will address me as Kunou-sensei."

"I'll do no such thing. I was healing your wounds when your only thoughts about the clergy was to wonder why they'd ever swear off weapons, AND I am your elder, so I have the right to call you what I wish."

"Insolent cur! Thou darest insult the Blue Thunder, founder of the Kunou Foundation, poet Laureate, and Global Saviour?"

Ono nodded.

"I dare," he said. "And... Tatewaki, it IS 2026. Stuff archaisms."

"Methinks thou needest a lesson in manners. Seiji! Uta! Attack!"

Two of the acolytes stood, one on either side, and rushed the doctor.

Without bothering to look at them, he placed practised fingers on the crucial acupuncture points, and sent them into the dreamless sleep of the unconscious.

"It is YOU who will call ME sensei." Kunou bit his lip. "I laid my wife to rest today, 'Waki, and I don't have the time or patience to put up with this. I need a favour from you; as a business partner, not a friend."

"Why should I deal with someone like yourself, after the indignities to which you have submitted me and my noble followers?"

Tofu reached into the folds of his kimono and pulled out a small, yellow jump drive.

"Because I have unlimited access to Nabiki's files. Would you rather I tell the world what your sister has been up to all these years?"

"The Blue Thunder will NEVER submit to blackmail!"

"Oh, no?" He picked up a wall-mounted hand-set. "Dialup? This is Ono Tofu, CMO. Kindly send a copy of file TN-102-KK-A to the..."

"Wait!" Any thunder that there might have been seems to have collapsed into a whine.

"Yes?"

"I... I will hear your request. Just... Do not send that file. Please."

"Dialup? Cancel that last command." Click "I'm SO glad that we understand each other."

"What is it that you wish?"

"It is something that must be discussed in private."

"Those with me are my... Privy council, if you will. If I may hear it, so may they."

"Very well, then... I take it you've already told them about Kodachi's religious values?" The monks looked up at their master, who paled and began to sweat. "And if they may hear EVERYTHING that you may, I'm sure that it'll be all right for me to brief you on her... Activities..."

"Monks, disperse! Listen to the commandments of your Master! I, Kunou Tatewaki, Blue Thunder, Poet Laureate and Global Saviour, have decided to grant this unworthy vassal's most humble request, that he may know that even the Mighty may shine their benevolence upon those who they have far transcended."

"I take it my threat worked."

Kunou scowled, and did not answer. The monks stood, dusted off their robes, then marched out of the room in single file.

Ono Tofu led the self-proclaimed 'Global Saviour' through seven levels of retinal scans, password IDs, security checkpoints and voice-activated gates, until they finally arrived in front of an innocuous-looking white door.

"We're here," said the doctor.

"And where, pray tell," asked Kunou, "is HERE?"

"USE Alpha labs."

"Alpha labs?"

"Alpha clearance only." He paused. "And those with special permission, of course. Such as yourself."

"NO ONE DENIES THE BLUE THUNDER!"

"Oh, no?" Tofu grinned. "After you, Kunou." He bowed and swept his hands in the direction of the door.

"I thank you for your sudden graciousness, though indeed this change in your behaviour doth puzzle me. I..." ZAP Tatewaki staggered back as he was hit by a strong bolt of electricity.

"What's wrong?" asked Tofu. "Was the 'Blue Thunder' denied by the doorknob? Let me try." The CMO of USE walked to the portal, and easily turned the handle.

"What sorcery is THIS?"

"No sorcery, 'Waki. We ARE a medical research facility. This door will only answer to MY genetic material, or Kyo... Or one other person's. Anyone else will get zapped. Like you."

"But... But I am..."

Tofu cut him off.

"I know who you are; I've had to hear you proclaim it loud and clear at least three times today. Now, however," he narrowed his eyes, "you are in MY domain, where I make the rules. Remember that, 'Waki."

A rare glint of comprehension crossed Kunou's eyes. In a split-second, it was gone, but he nodded.

"I will remember. Lead on; I follow."

The lab, when the entered, was dark. Tofu stopped a few feet from the entrance, then closed the door.

"Even one of mine own greatness cannot see within a place which holds no light."

"I... I have to warn you of something, before I activate the lights."

"What have you need to warn me of? Hast thou drawn me into a trap? If so, know that I am well protected, and that..."

"If I wanted to get rid of you, 'Waki, I would've done it long ago."

"Methinks thou dost think too highly of thine own abilities."

"And ME thinks that you should learn how to speak properly."

"You CUR! How DARE you..."

"Remember the files."

"Blackmail is illegal."

"So are most of the Kunou Foundation's activities."

Silence.

"Out with it, Ono. What is it that you need?"

"I need money. A lot of it."

"I never thought that you would sink to this level... To think that someone who married the sister of the peerless Akane should..."

"It's NOT blackmail money. USE pays me more than I can spend. I need it for... For something ELSE."

"I do not enjoy being kept in the dark." A pause. "Either figuratively, or literally."

"It's only for a little while longer. When I switch on the lights, you may find the scene somewhat... Disturbing. I need you to promise, upon your honour as a monk and samurai, that you will listen to what I have to say before coming to any conclusions."

"You doubt that I, the Great Pacifier, can be reasonable? AGAIN you insult me, Ono, and AGAIN I am surprised at your forwardness... First you taunt me, and blackmail me and now you ask me to agree to something unknown by swearing to it upon my highest values?"

"In a nutshell... Yes."

"Surely, you jest!"

"I do not. I merely ask that you listen to me before coming to a hasty conclusion."

"In that case..." Kunou stroked his chin. "In that case, I agree to your terms. The Blue Thunder is never unreasonable, and is willing to stake his honour upon that claim."

"Say it."

"You do not trust me?"

"Computer, Voice Check Ono Tofu. Begin record. Now."

From somewhere in front of them, as speaker blared out a monotonic, synthesised voice.

"RECORDING SESSION COMMENCED. LOG FILE OPENED WITH NUMBER 3750-2-1. SECURITY CLEARANCE ALPHA."

"Say it, Kunou."

"Very well." He cleared his throat. "I, Kunou Tatewaki, Blue Thunder, Poet Laureate and Global Saviour, do hereby swear upon my honour as a monk and samurai that I shall listen to the arguments of this insolent man before judging and condemning him for any of the vile scenes which he may hereafter present before me."

"Good enough. Computer, Voice Check Ono Tofu. End record. Now."

"RECORDING SESSION COMPLETE. LOG FILE CLOSED WITH NUMBER 3750-2-1. SECURITY CLEARANCE ALPHA."

"Canst thou shed light upon the room, now?"

"I can. Computer, lights on."

The fluorescent strips on the ceiling crackled into life, and bathed the laboratory in a sterile white glow tinged with blue.

In front of them were all the usual accoutrements of such a place... And more. There were, of course, the computer banks, the stools, the benches, sinks and beakers, and one must not forget the fume hoods, cloning 'chines, and genetic samplers, among other equipment straight from one of last century's worst 'mad scientist' movies. That much was expected. What had NOT been foreseen, were the Tanks.

There were six of them; two rows of three. Great glass cylinders rose the eight-foot height at the ceiling, with their metal base and top turning the group into a grotesque parody of an ancient temple's Doric columns.

They were filled with a pale grey liquid, noticeably thick and slimy even by the sight alone. Immersed in it were shining tentacles - sensors of some sort - which thrust themselves through the murk, from the AI banks above and below, to finally end in... In what?

Kunou squinted... Surely it couldn't be... Not even the sorcerer Saotome would have been this gruesome in his prime... Hesitantly, he walked a few steps forward.

And stopped.

He had NOT been imagining things. The tank in front of him held what was very obviously a human leg. Or, had been. Chunks of flesh were torn off randomly, and several of the obscene unguals dug their way into the mutilated limb, leaving mounds of reddened, hardened, crusty meat wherever they made their entrance.

If the first held a leg, then the others...

Tatewaki quickly moved to check the neighbouring tank. This one bounded several pieces of what might have been a chest. A female chest; he thought he could make out a single breast (well, half of one). Thankfully, another piece, less recognisable, obscured his view. The Blue Thunder's stomach began to rumble.

He turned to the doctor, but Ono simply stood there, stoic and impassive. The artificial light reflecting off his glasses' lenses made it impossible to read his expression, and his mouth was simply a straight line.

And now, the next. An arm. And hand. The hand was the worst part. Its tensed fingers, miraculously whole, showed signs of pain and suffering at the time of death for whoever had once owned them. They seemed so human, so once-living...

He could not look anymore. Even a warrior like himself had limits.

But, still, he was drawn to examine the remainder of the 'collection'. The following two cylinders were not too bad... Matching left limbs for the right-sided ones which he had already scene. A shock repeated loses its effect.

But, in the last...

"Go on," said Tofu. "Closer. It won't bite." A pause. "Not yet."

The poet pressed his palms against the smooth, transparent surface of the tube, and looked. A head was there. A severed head, with spinal column trailing down, and probes, electrodes, everywhere. Its eyes were open, and they looked at him.

Nabiki looked at him.

Tatewaki was in shock. Of all the people in the world, that an ONO should do this... This was a desecration of the dead; a disrespect of hallowed memory - Not to be tolerated.

The Blue Thunder's brow twisted itself into a frown, and his face grew contorted with rage.

"Ono... For this... For this TRAVESTY, for this PERVERSION, I will..."

"You will what?"

"I would have you suffer."

"You will listen to me, first."

"WHAT?"

"You gave your word, upon your honour, that you would listen to me."

"It would be a greater dishonour to allow this to continue. I, Kunou Tatewaki, DEMAND that you give the lovely..." He gulped, and looked at the tanks. "The ONCE-LOVELY Tendo Nabiki a proper burial, such as one of her refinement deserves! Even a DOG would be treated better than this, at its hour of death!"

The doctor shook his head.

"I will not," he pronounced.

Kunou sputtered, clenched his fists, and bit his lip. To rush upon the cur, or wait and listen patiently as he explained? That was the decision facing him.

He rushed.

Tofu stepped aside, and as the dark-kimono'd figure dashed past him, he pressed a single finger to his neck. All movement stopped.

"I told you, 'Waki, that I don't have time for this. I will explain this to you only once, and you WILL help me, so listen carefully."

Kunou tried to protest, but to no effect. He had been paralysed.

"You are in the heart of the 'Lazarus Project' control centre," began Tofu. "Before she died, Nabiki left instructions that her life was to be preserved at any cost... Being head of USE, said cost ran very high." He took a stool and sat himself in front of one of the computers, before going on.

"The company and I are bound by law to grant her wish, and so we use the full resources of her wealth to bring her back to life. But she does not deserve to live."

The halted figure twitched slightly.

"Let me show you something, 'Waki." Tofu pressed some keys on the computer, and a picture came up on the monitor. A blank sheet of paper. "This is a computer scan of a notepad found in Nabiki's office after the Ryouga incident. It's in the sensor chamber right now. Computer, enhance depressions." The image shimmered slightly, and grey lines appeared where there had been none before; confused masses of numbers, symbols, and more.

"These are the impressions left by Nabiki's pencils on the pad. Computer, erase all mathematical symbols." A window popped up on-screen.

SEARCHING...

SEARCH COMPLETE. REMOVING REQUESTED FIGURES. MATCH ACCURACY: 85

The display was redrawn, and an entirely new document appeared.

Tatewaki's eyes widened slightly.

"Surprised? So was I. Nabiki forged a letter in Akane's name, claiming she had killed herself because she had found out... Certain things... About Ryouga." He looked at his prisoner. "I see you want to tell me something. If you promise to be courteous, I will allow you movement of your head. Blink once for no, twice for yes."

Kunou promptly blinked twice. Tofu stood up, walked to him and pressed his hand to a point on his shoulder.

"I... I..."

"Go on..."

"Nabiki... How... How DARE she? How DARE she desecrate the sacrifice of the beauteous Tendo Akane, who gave her young and virginal life for me, that I would not have to choose between my two loves? This... This cheapens it, makes her holy action a mere whim... I... You are right, Tofu. She cannot be allowed to live. Why do you persist in this project, then? Unplug the machines!"

"Not so fast, Kunou."

"I do not understand..."

"If I let her die, that'll be the end of it. She must pay for what she's done; I can't allow her to get away so easily." His eyes watered over.

"Her actions took Kasumi from me, 'Waki."

"I... I had forgotten."

"Right now you're advocating a 'Consistency' project."

"I do not know what you are..."

"Stuff it, 'Waki. I know all about your Foundation's activities. In fact, I'll help you. Decades in this business have allowed me to set up quite the network."

"You would help me in my plans for reform?"

Tofu nodded.

"I would. In return for YOUR help."

"What dost thou need?"

"Financial assistance. I need to break away from USE and work on the project on my own."

"Still thou wouldst bring Nabiki back?"

"Only to be punished, Kunou. Only to be punished."

Tatewaki looked at him, surprised, then hardened his expression.

"The guilty must be punished," he agreed. "And she is guilty of a most base deception; one which lays low the exalted the events which led to my conversion."

"That means you'll help me?"

"I would fund you, Tofu."

"That's all I needed to know."

**The office of Kurenai Tameshi, President of USE. Two weeks later.**

Kurenai looked out the window, his hands behind his back.

"You realise that you'll have to take Nabiki with you."

"I know that, Tameshi."

"I'm sorry about that... But the law... And when you leave, we're shutting down USE's medical department... I never saw the use for that in a security company..."

"Neither did I. I guarantee you, Kurenai, that if you need anything done, I'll have Onocorp provide it at cost."

"Thank-you, Tofu." He pivoted to face him. "Could I have that in writing?"

"Of course." Ono smiled. The son of Tsubasa and Azusa had inherited his mother's acquisitiveness, and his father's... versatility, making him a natural businessman. Not quite Nabiki, but he came close. "As soon as you give me legal ownership of the USE medical equipment. I've taken the liberty of transporting it to the new lab sites."

"It's been done. We DID agree on that as a preliminary, to your resignation, after all."

"We did. Where are the deeds?"

"The originals are in the city's record department. You can verify that on-line. Certified copies have been sent to your new office."

"Everything was included? The cloning machines? The samples?"

"Everything. We have no use for it, Tofu." Ono nodded. "That INCLUDES the Lazarus material, I'm afraid. You'll have to pay for that on your own, now. Neither the Hibikis or USE are responsible for it, and quite frankly, we can't afford the expense."

"I know. I have no problem with that."

Kurenai raised an eyebrow.

"No? We must be over-paying you." He grinned. "Never mind. I'll not question you on it. Deity knows we all run our little 'side-games'. Scotch?"

**Onocorp Labs. A month later.**

Kyoofu hammered away at the keyboard.

"It's AMAZING, Tofu-sensei. Simply AMAZING!"

"What is it?" Tofu walked over from his microscope.

"Take a look at this." The Gosunkugi pressed the 'Enter' key and reclined as a graph appeared on-screen. "These are the ki-flow charts for Kioku and Ryouga. Kioku's green, Ryouga's blue."

"Kyoofu, I asked you to examine viability for the cloned sperm, not acupuncture pathways."

"I KNOW... The two are related, though. Take a closer look." He pointed at some peaks in the chart. "See this? They're mostly identical, except for these heights and depressions here, here, here... And HERE. THOSE must be where Ryouga's special abilities come in... The Bakusai Ten Ketsu, the Shishi Houkodan..."

"That was to be expected. Any training of the sort is going to alter the ki pathways. What does this have to do with the cloned sample's viability, though?"

"Well... Assuming we CAN get a viable clone..." Some more keys were punched. "I'm pasting the genetic data with the acupuncture stuff. See here? If we CAN get one point oh viability, then we should be able to DOUBLE those abnormalities in the clone with no side effects."

"Yes. And?"

"Don't you SEE, Ono-sensei? Think of it! An ENHANCED Ryouga! BORN with all the ki-potential that it took the original YEARS to learn!"

"It sounds dangerous, Kyoofu."

"Not at all! It sounds PERFECT."

"I don't follow your reasoning."

"You keep on telling me that you want to have Ryouga's genetic son and Kasumi's descendant be there when Nabiki wakes, to make sure that she is treated as she deserves."

"That's a blunt way of putting it."

"But accurate, ne?"

"More or less."

"We both know what I mean. Think of it... What if we had not only a Ryouga descendant, but one with his POWERS there to wait for her? She destroyed your life by what she pretended was a Shishi Houkodan... It's only fitting that she be faced by someone who can actually PERFORM it."

"Deity... Kyoofu... You're sounding like your father... That's..."

Kasumi walked into the room, and drifted towards Kyoofu. She cradled his head in her hands, and smiled.

"Yes?" asked Gosunkugi.

"That's... I..." Kasumi? What are you doing here? Do you actually...

"It's poetic justice. She clones the sperm, and fakes the ki-blast, while we make the samples viable and turn the ki-blast real. Perfect revenge, and in full accordance with that Consistency Movement of yours."

Kasumi nodded, and giggled.

"I... I cannot say no."

"You'll go ahead with it?"

"Do as you will. It is not my choice, and she whose it is has spoken."

Kyoofu smiled.

"Hai, Tofu-sensei."

**2052. Onocorp labs, late at night.**

Tofu sighed and ran the checks one more time, as his late wife smoothed his hair. A trench-coat was thrown casually over the back of his chair, and the sharp stubble on his chin grated his hand as he rubbed it.

"I've almost got it, Kasumi... If I could just..."

The screen came to life.

VIABILITY EVALUATION: 100

Ono blinked.

"I... It can't be... After all this time..." He typed away furiously, running pathway checks, zygote creation simulations... Everything pointed to the same conclusion. He was done. "Computer, recalculate viability for sample."

VIABILITY EVALUATION: 100

It WAS finished. The enhanced material could survive... It could be implanted... Into his daughter, or his daughter's daughter...

"We've done it, Kasumi..." His eyes welled up with tears. "We've done it." With trembling hands, he pressed the final keystrokes, and spoke his last command. "Computer, initiate project R."

PROJECT REIRAKU: AUTHORISATION ALPHA CONFIRMED. BEGIN PROJECT. CLONING START.

The 'chines whirred into life, taking the data stored over decades and spinning it into organic fibres. It would work. She could rest... He looked at her... So beautiful... Forever young... Her long brown hair without a trace of grey, still soft and smooth and flowing around her pale and perfect skin.

She gave a smile, and cocked her head, and slowly disappeared for the last time.

She blew a kiss, but was not seen, for Tofu fell asleep.

**END FILE OT-1-R-26: ALPHA CLEARANCE**


	9. The Fall of Heaven

The figures cloaked in darkness moved silently through the night. What they were doing was best left undiscovered to any gentle soul.

The schemes of the damned usually are.

They moved as swiftly as they could in the complete blackness, pushing themselves to move faster still. This was not something they would be treated mercifully for if they were caught. The shape they carried between them was beginning to strain their arms, nothing but dead weight sagging as their breath became laboured.

Yet, silence was what they needed, so they carefully controlled their rasping breath, making it as silent as the depth of the night around them.

Even when they had delivered their grisly cargo, the control was not released. Not until they were gone far away from the den of evil and corruption of the soul would they relax.

The look on her face... It had been ecstatic.

--

**The Fall of Heaven**

by Lara Bartram

Edited by 4cw6

--

R2096 characters and situations used with permission. Takahashi's aren't.

--

'May Heaven forgive the folly and morbidity which led us both to so

monstrous a fate!'

- 'The Hound' by H.P. Lovecraft

--

**1996**

Denial. Denial. Denial. And there could be no more denial.

Gone forever. Tendo Akane was gone forever from his grasp and he could no longer deny it.

There was a point in time at which a man could not cry, no matterwhat the tragedy. The joy at finding out the sorcerer Saotome had been killed had quickly been erased at the news of Akane's death. He could not cry. He was a man and could not cry.

But he did anyway.

His pig-tailed goddess was gone, disappeared into thin air. No one would tell him where she had gone. They conspired against him to keep him miserable. They conspired against him to deny his happiness.

They conspired against him to keep his soul restless. They conspired against him, but he would prevail.

He would prevail, but in his soul, he felt empty. Empty in the worst way. Empty of his own being. Empty. Nothing. He felt like nothing and no matter what he did, he was still nothing.

Akane was the one who made him something. The pig-tailed goddess made him more than he had ever aspired to be, but they were gone.

They were gone and now he was nothing.

"A soul in need of replenishment; a spirit desiring a purpose. Tendo Akane. Pig-tailed goddess. How I long for you, yet Heaven has seen that you are to be plucked from my grasp. If that is what must be..."

If that is what must be, then what? He could not simply accept what had happened. It would be a crime to sit and do nothing, to let things continue as they were. Someone, something needed to be punished.

By rights, it should be Saotome Ranma, but he had already been killed. Maybe, just maybe... The vengeance of Heaven was slow, but sure.

The vengeance of Heaven would not be denied, and he would be the one to extract it. He would be the embodiment of that vengeance and fill his soul with its wrath.

By his hand, he would wield its lightning, he would rain destruction down on those that deserved it, he would truly be the Blue Thunder. And he would be feared by all.

Anything to fill his empty soul again.

He hadn't seen his sister for quite some time. Though, he couldn't remember the last time he had left the presence of the visages of his two loves. He couldn't remember much of anything sincehe had heard the news about Akane.

As he stood, her picture staring at him, staring into him, into his empty soul, it reached out. It tried to fill itself with her again, it tried to make itself whole, but she was gone and his soul would not be placated by a picture.

That was when he knew what had to be done. That was when he knew the only way to achieve peace.

"Kodachi!" His infernal sister and her wicked ways... How he managed to put up with her all this time, he didn't know. "Kodachi!" he yelled at the closed door.

It opened ever so slowly, no more than an inch, and Kodachi looked out at him. Or rather, one eye looked out at him.

"And what do you want?" Her voice was neither friendly or sisterly.

"I have news."

"Then tell me and leave. I have no use of you."

"I am leaving. I know not when I shall return. Father shall be your responsibility. Until I return..."

The door slammed unceremoniously in his face, blowing out alittle puff of medicinal smelling air. Looking at it sourly for a moment, he soon turned, and left behind his life as he had known it.

Kodachi stepped back from the door she had just shut in her brother's face. The meddling snoop. Leaving indeed. Well, at least he would be out of her hair. He was another obstacle that would try to stop her, no doubt. She didn't need more obstacles; she needed allies.

Turning, the look on her face changed to one of pure love and something of lust. "Ranma-sama," she whispered.

The tank was most assuredly inadequate for the time. She would have to look into a way to stabilize the setup, to make sure the ball would stay firmly in her court.

That brought on a most devilish grin as she eyed the tank filled with yellow liquid, as she eyed the figure floating in that yellow liquid.

Saotome Ranma.

**1998 - Summer**

Kuno Tatewaki's trip had turned out to be most enlightening. He had not stayed gone as long as he thought he might have because it hadn't been necessary. He had been shown how unprepared he was by a strange figure, a man, that had counseled him in his life's path. He needed to return to school. Put Akane behind him, only for the time, and return to school.

Though, if he was ever asked about the man, Kuno Tatewaki would swear, in his more lucid moments, that the man was either a demon or an angel. A demon or an angel and impossible to tell between the two.

He had masterfully convinced Tatewaki that, despite the emptiness inside him, there were ways to fill it. Ways that would reap great rewards, but schooling was a must. There were benefits ahigh school and college education brought, even if those things were unimportant to him. They would assist him at a later time. The figure had convinced him of that. The figure had convinced him of a great many things.

And as he had begun college, the man had disappeared. He was left to his own devices for a time, but only for a time.

"Blue Thunder," the voice whispered to him.

It drifted on the breeze to reach his ears. He stopped suddenly and looked around him. Amidst the green grass, bathed in bright sunshine, the voice sounded like it was coming from a grave.

He shuddered involuntarily as he spotted the mysterious figure under some trees across the yard.

Striding purposefully over to the trees, giving his other classmates imperious looks, he paused in front of the hooded figure.

"You've returned."

"I have. How are your studies progressing?" the figure asked.

"Well. Indeed, I can see the ramifications of being a learned scholar in my pursuit of..."

"Quiet. If you wish my continued assistance, then you will carry on. You will finish your college career and be a well-respected student. Do you hear me?"

Nodding, Tatewaki could not imagine doing anything else in school.

"Of course."

"Excellent. I shall find you after college, after graduation. You shall be one step closer to the greatness you deserve."

Nodding again, the foreign thought of true greatness, not school greatness, clouded his mind.

"Failure is not an option," he answered seriously.

"Either way, Blue Thunder, you're destined for better things. Don't forget that." Gosunkugi Kyoofu #2993 left a very dazed Blue Thunder standing under a tree.

**2001 - Spring**

The spring air was refreshing, welcome after the oppressive winter months. That, and the fact that Kuno Tatewaki walked away from the college with a diploma seemed to lift his spirits to previously unimagined heights.

The world was good, for the most part. For the most part.

There was a part of him that didn't think about the part of him that was missing, but it was a nagging, gnawing feeling always at the back of his mind.

Leaving the university grounds for the last time, the mysterious figure met him again.

"Blue Thunder, we meet again." He seemed to melt out of the shadows, smelling faintly of fire and livestock, extending one pale hand.

"So we do." He said nothing more, having matured without the help of this man.

"Don't think you don't need me just because I've let you go for three years. Remember, you are bound for greater things. Without me, you are bound for nothing." It wasn't spoken as a threat, but as a fact.

A fact that struck deep inside Tatewaki. "I... remember."

Smiling at the much humbled Kuno Tatewaki, it was time that Kyoofu set his plan in motion. It could happen no other way; nothing else would work. He said two words. "Saotome Ranma."

Saotome Ranma, and it all came crashing back down on him. A demon. He had consorted with demons that had killed him. But his death had broken Tendo Akane's spirit, unable to live without her enslaver, she had killed herself. Saotome Ranma had enslaved her and killed her.

That was unforgivable. He glared at the man before him, his gaze smouldering in its intensity, its hate.

"Good. I see you haven't forgotten him." Kyoofu #2993 chuckled at the reaction he had received. It was just as he had planned. Perfect. "I know how you can achieve greatness, but it will take time while you hone your mind, body and spirit."

A simple nod.

"You wish to avenge her death. You're not strong enough to."

No, his mind hadn't been reduced to mush yet. He wasn't pliable enough yet. It could be changed. After all, he had seen the future. He had seen the future and the power. And all because of the fool before him.

If it meant he had to do these things, or if it was because he did these things, Gosunkugi Kyoofu #2993 didn't care. Self-fulfilling prophecies didn't matter just as long as they worked in his benefit.

"Blue Thunder, I know how it can be done. I know how you can avenge her. I know..."

And he had always known.

**2002 - Winter**

It was strange, being a monk and all. He did nothing that related to the things he had done in high school and college. His short time as a monk resembled his previous life none at all.

It had been quite the humbling experience for him, to be stripped of all that made him the Blue Thunder. Yet, he was to immerse himself, become a monk to strengthen himself. It was what the stranger had said, and the stranger had never been wrong before.

And there was that same thing inside him that kept Akane's memory at bay. Some sort of self-preservation instinct that knew burying his grief over Akane was the only way he would ever keep his sanity worked within him.

As the weeks passed, Tatewaki fell into the daily schedule of the monk. It was not exciting, nor was it interesting. It was peaceful.

It seemed, to him, to be the first time he had ever experienced such peace.

And the stranger's suggestion seemed a good one. Without the pressure, he was calm. Without his sister, he was relaxed. With the external peace came the internal peace. That was followed by uncommon insight and lucidity.

Kuno Tatewaki embraced his life then. As summer approached, he knew it was something he should have done a long time ago. And while he contemplated the order of life and nature, there was always some part of him that would not stop reminding him of Akane.

Thankfully, that remained a muted memory, a distant memory that he would not allow to ruin his peace. True, he hadn't quite come to grips with the things that had happened, but he knew in time all things would fall into their proper places.

**2008 - Summer**

Bad news, but it was the way of the world. As everything lived, so it must die. He would die someday; the prospect did not frighten him. Because of this, the news was little more than an inconvenience.

"Your father has passed away."

A simple nod.

The one that had delivered the news left silently, and he was alone again. Death was a natural part of living. It was something he had learned, and it was something he told himself every day.

The house had not changed. Even with his sister as the almost sole occupant while he was gone, things were the same. He did not like it. It was not healthy to remain static for as much time as he thought had passed.

The grounds were neat, well-trimmed, as they should be, but there was an eeriness to their passivity. Like it wasn't really life, but a painting, and if he stayed there too long, he would became a part of that painting.

He hadn't really expected the house to look different. That was probably one thing their father would not have stood for. Inside, he knew he could not expect the condition to be the same as the outside.

Approaching the door, Tatewaki tried to reach for the peace in his surroundings, the tranquillity, but there was none. There was nothing tranquil about things, nothing peaceful, nothing he wanted to be anywhere near. This place was conducive to madness.

Calming himself, refusing to give in to the fears of his past, he knocked on the door as a matter of common courtesy. He certainly felt different, and who knows? If he looked as different as he felt,

Kodachi was liable to not recognize him at all.

It turned out that it was the other way around. A girl that looked nothing at all like his sister answered the door.

"I'm looking for Kodachi," he said, slightly confused as to who this strange girl was answering the door.

She smiled pleasantly enough at him. "What can I do for you?"

Yes, she smiled, but it did not quite reach her eyes. In fact, she was looking at him rather suspiciously.

"Yes, I'd like to see my sister. Kodachi?"

Mutsuko, one of the numerous Kodachettes staying at the mansion, looked surprised at that. "Your... sister?"

"Yes. I've come back to take care of my father's funeral arrangements. Is Kodachi here?"

The girl seemed to sputter for a moment then nodded. "Of course! Please, come in." She allowed him to enter the house, but wouldn't let him go anywhere. "Please wait here while I get you an escort."

Tatewaki watched her hurry away, and waited. He was most curious as to what had happened with his sister. Who was that girl? Why had she gone to fetch an escort?

After only two minutes or so, a woman came walking down the hall toward him. She was smiling, though again, it didn't reach her eyes.

When she reached him, she offered no greeting other than to say, "Good morning."

"Good morning. Is it possible to see my sister. We have much to discuss about our..."

"Of course. Follow me, please." She moved away quickly, walking with purpose. She knew exactly where she was going, an indication that she had been dwelling in the house for quite some time.

"I'm sure she'll be quite... pleased to see you," the woman said, though it was obvious that wasn't what she thought at all.

"As I will be to see her. It has been too long."

The women glanced back at him curiously. He wasn't anything like what Kodachi had described him as. Yet, it was not wise to question Kodachi.

The meeting with his sister had been quite... interesting.

There was no other way to describe it. At one point in time, he would have been furious, outraged over the state of the house, what Kodachi was doing there, but now... He really didn't care.

Kodachi had her world and he had his, and never the twain shall meet. Hopefully.

But their agreement had been quite simple. He had no desire to return to the house he had grown up in. That suited Kodachi because she was unwilling to cease her eccentric activities. The finances were in the capable hands of a prestigious firm, yet they were under his control.

Kodachi received an allowance every month, which she had seemed perfectly content with. She had control of the house and the grounds, and would retain it until she no longer wanted it.

All in all, they were both pleased with the way things had gone.

Kodachi, seeming more stable than she had in all the time he had known her, had insisted that there was no problem and it was all fine with her.

Besides, she hadn't exactly been idle all these years and had her own holdings and funds to draw off of. That was what she had told him, and that was what he had believed.

Kuno Tatewaki returned to the monastery feeling much better about things. If there was one thing he had learned, it was that he loved his sister and that accommodating her was something he could do happily.

**2010 - Fall**

None of them had known. None of them could have known. One person knew, but he was in no position to be revealing anything. The wind blew lightly, stirring the leaves that covered the stone walkway. They skittered across the stone, making the only noise in the open courtyard of the abandoned monastery.

The group of monks looked at the modest structure, crumbling with age, but still intimidating. They didn't speak, instead awed at the power of the damned location. That was the worst thing; it wasn't some giant glowing demon or a pack of ghosts, it was just an extremely creepy old building.

Gosunkugi Hikaru was not in awe the same way the monks were.

He walked back and forth, taking pictures of the structure, the grounds, the physical layout of the place. It seemed fairly typical to him. An old, abandoned monastery with stories of ghosts and demons... Hikaru wasn't a monk or psychically sensitive or even the magician he once aspired to be, but he was sensitive enough to see there wasn't anything there.

Frankly, he wasn't even sure why he was there. It seemed like a giant waste of time. But, what harm could it do? They wanted him to get evidence of the thing they were about to do, and they had specifically called him, so it was impossible to refuse. His ego wouldn't allow him to.

They had tried to explain, as a way of convincing him, that the monastery had originally been built on some sort of nexus or other (not that Hikaru was paying THAT much attention to what was being said), and the activity of the monks had been disturbing... something.

Bloody hell had broken loose during one lunar eclipse. There had been screams and strange lights and something that felt like an earthquake.

And now, the monastery was abandoned, avoided by everyone.

The weirdest thing was that he had seen Kuno Tatewaki among thegroup of monks, and he had seemed much changed. Hikaru hadn't attempted to greet him in any way, nor had he been approached. It was another one of life's myriad twists and turns that they should meetwhere and when they did.

Without a sound, the monks moved forward to enter the stone building, the door having long rotted off. Hikaru followed slowly, still taking pictures here and there of things that caught his eye.

It was only once inside that the grand... devastation could be fully seen.

Outside, there was nothing special, but inside, it looked like a bomb had gone off. The place was destroyed, with the walls visibly crumbling, and the ceiling looking like it might cave in upon them at any moment. Still, Hikaru didn't sense anything, but he was experiencing an extremely strong urge to leave the building and never come back.

Ego, once again, took hold of him. He would not run like a frightened rabbit. He stood back and began taking more pictures as the monks prepared for their exorcism. He looked up and got several shots of the ceiling as little more than personal record.

There was no doubt that something had happened, something large and violent had taken place in the old monastery at some time or another. He could almost see the blood stains on the floor, still fresh after all that time.

Hikaru closed his eyes for a moment, counting backwards from 100.

When he opened them again, at around 74, the monks were about to start and the visions of massacred bodies had disappeared. Quickly taking several pictures of the monks, he moved around to stand on a set of crumbling stairs.

At the slightly elevated height, he could get good pictures of the whole event. Event, like it was some sort of show, though he knew they were taking this whole thing seriously. Deadly seriously. And with the way he had to carefully control his body from shaking, heknew he was going to take it seriously too.

Waiting silently, only the click of his camera making noise, Hikaru wondered if things had begun. It was when the light inside started to fade that he knew they were in more trouble than any of them had bargained for.

None of the others made any indication that they had noticed the development, so Hikaru didn't either, though the fact that it was almost pitch black inside could not be ignored. Trying to get control of his shaking hands, he counted backwards from 100 again, only reaching 90 when the noise started.

It was a moaning, howling sound, somewhere between pain and death and damnation. Hikaru dropped the camera then, the noise was almost deafening to his ears. Looking around, blind in the darkness, the sound seemed to come from everywhere.

This was not something he could handle. Moving slowly, trying not to make any sound or trip over anything, he moved around the edge of\ the gathering of monks. The pictures weren't worth it, the camera wasn't worth it... This was something bigger than he wanted to deal with.

Walking closer to the door, he gave a final, silent goodbye then made the move to leave. They didn't need a visual record anyway, not from him. His life was more important than a bunch of pictures. The lives of his wife and son were more important than anything and he so desperately wanted to see them again.

First it had been the sound that made him run, and now it was the light that made him stop. The walls seemed to glow with ghostly light, casting blue shadows around the room. Hikaru could not recall a time when he had ever been so scared. Until the next moment.

A figure emerged from one wall, from the strange light, and the sounds of torture grew louder. Without warning, without fanfare, the noise stopped, and an unsettling silence descended.

Hikaru was staring at the figure, unable to tear his eyes away, unable to run. He was entranced by the figure's air of grace and beauty, the long, lean lines, pale skin and ruby lips curved upward in a terrible smile. The eyes were terrible to look at, but impossible not to, dancing with flames of hatred and damnation.

He was not sure if it spoke; he could only stare, captivated by it, his mind somewhere far away telling him that he should be running.

The figure's mouth moved, but no sound could be heard.

Instead, the building itself seemed to echo the words. "Interlopers. Invaders. Death." With those words, the nature of the being was revealed to be not simply a restless ghost, but something far more evil.

The whole sequence of events played out before Hikaru in such an eerily mundane fashion, he often wondered during that time after if his mind hadn't glossed over the details to protect his sanity.

Certainly, the authorities investigating the incident after had shown him pictures that made him want to cry and vomit, and if he had actually witnessed that...

As he watched, the figure moved among the monks, gliding silently, a pale blue glow coming off its body. Amazingly, the monks seemed to take no heed of the figure, the ghost, the... demon as it moved.

As it stood in front of one monk, an unseen wind making its hair wave and clothes ruffle, it extended one hand, finger extended. Hikaru tried to make a sound of warning, but when he opened his mouth, no sound came out. It was just like being trapped in a nightmare. No matter how hard he tried, he was completely helpless.

As the spectral finger reached the monk's forehead, passed through it, the monk's eyes flew open and his face got a look of utter terror and pain on it. And the sound, a liquidy gurgling noise, that came from the monk's mouth terrified Hikaru. He knew that whatever was happening to that monk, eventually it would happen to him as well.

With an almost audible creaking noise, the monk's head seemed to bulge out, the joints of the skull splitting and erupting a spray of blood.

It might have been then that Hikaru lost control of his bladder, not that he really noticed at the time. He was far too busy wondering if he would ever see the light of day again.

And then the demon moved on to the next monk, who hadn't moved an inch. In a very surreal moment of realization, Hikaru saw that the way the light and shadows formed around the demon's face, the overall effect was that of... Hikaru didn't want to believe it. His eyes were playing tricks on him.

And then the carnage really began.

Small sparks seemed to dance in the air around them all, causing the demon to glare angrily at the other monks.

"You dare," it hissed. "You can not." A crimson globe of fury formed in the demon's hand and quickly shot forward to impact against one unfortunate monk's head.

It impacted and seemed to break, bathing the monk in the same crimson glow. Still unmoving, the monk did not even cry out at his horrible fate.

At least, Hikaru thought it was pretty horrible, the monk's body wasting away before his very eyes until it was little more than ashen gray skin stretched over bones, dressed in robes.

The glowing of the sparks seemed to intensify, and Hikaru could almost feel a heat come from them. If this was the best the monks could do, he had a sinking feeling it would not be enough.

Yet, the demon was enraged. It did not like the faerie lights, glowing with golden heat, and it did the only thing it knew would make them go away. Arcs of red lightning shot from his body in all directions, striking several hapless monks. One exploded in a cloud of blood, another was simply burnt to cinder, and yet another was blown in half.

There were screams now, screams coming from the walls, from the demon, from everything. The lights intensified in their glow, even with only the few remaining monks. Ripping control away from whatever\ had been holding him, Hikaru covered his ears with his hands and beganto scream as well.

The blue light around everything began to slowly fade, and the demon became more insubstantial. One monk simply fell over, dead, no sign of violence on him. Red mist began to form in the air as the demon faded.

It was then that Hikaru closed his eyes tightly, trying to shut out everything that was happening in the retched old monastery. He couldn't see it, but he could still hear the screaming, and he could still feel it, clinging to him, begging him to open his eyes, begging him to bear witness.

That cold, evil crimson mist chewed at his clothing, trying to penetrate his skin and nestle in his heart and mind... He would not allow it. He could not allow it, could not allow himself to betainted. He had to return home whole, he had to return sane. He had to return for Akari and Kyoofu. For Akari and Kyoofu.

That was what he kept telling himself, over and over. That was what kept him sane.

And when he finally opened his eyes, finally got the courage, even long after the screaming had stopped, the sensation of the mist was gone, he wished he had gone insane.

This time, the blood was not a hallucination. The bodies were not figments of his mind. They were very real. Fortunately, he was as well, though his mind refused to believe it at the moment. It was only when his legs gave out and he fell hard to the stone that he realized his firmness.

It was also when he realized there was still another person alive amidst the carnage. He... he hadn't been so lucky to escape the demonic mist, the mind poison, the soul rot.

Eventually, after a few weeks of intensive emotional care and love by his family, Hikaru had recovered. The incident was now a very ugly memory, but he was healthy.

The other survivor had not been so lucky.

**2011 - Spring**

"Get out! You are nothing more than a madman! Never soil our land with your presence again!"

"You DARE speak to me that way! Know that you shall find yourself burning in the flames of the righteous for your treatment of the Blue..."

The door was slammed rather unceremoniously in his face, shutting him out in the cold spring rain. Snarling, Kuno Tatewaki walked away from the place that had once been his home. His home in a more peaceful and pleasant time, when he had known of light in the world.

The monks did not want him, would not take him back.

It had been their fault! They were the ones that had sent him along with the others! And they shut him out, like a stray dog. They called him a madman, accused him of soiling their land... They would find that he was not someone to simply shove away.

They had offered him hope and life at one time, and now they pulled it away. They were not worthy of being spiritual envoys. They were little more than charlatans, preying on those that needed guidance, sending them on demonic quests...

He was not the madman. They were. They with their ideals and quests for inner peace... A peace that they now denied him.

Spiritually corrupt. Corrupt. Disciples of demons and hellspawn, corrupting others.

They had tried to do the same to him. They had lulled him into a sense of security, then they had sent him as sacrifice to their masters. But he had survived, and he would rid Japan of the menace of these foul people who consorted with demons.

Tatewaki left the grounds then. He had no business there until he was prepared to take care of them once and for all. He went to the only place he knew. It was the one place burned into his mind that he could remember with any clarity.

It had been cleansed by him, and would be the start of his mission. It would be where it all began. In the future, it would be a shrine. A shrine to him and all the good he would do. Because he would be the one to return the country, no, the entire world to true enlightenment.

As he returned to the grounds of the old monastery, with no door, the stone crumbling, the stink of blood still in the air, he couldn't help but wonder...

The other survivor, the one that was unharmed, how had he done it? How had someone survived the encounter unscathed, unless... Like the others, he had something to do with it. Gosunkugi Hikaru, the pale, sorcerous person he had known in high school... still delvedinto the black arts, no doubt. Maybe it had been him that had done it.

Maybe something else, maybe the whole world was just a festering pit of corruption...

It was definitely time to clean it up.

**2011 - Summer**

It hadn't been hard, really. There were lots of people willing to listen, willing to follow. They just needed to hear the right message, they needed the right motivation, and then they would do almost anything.

Tatewaki wasn't sure why they had started following him, wasn't sure quite how they had found out what he was planning on doing, but they had, and they considered themselves his followers.

Never did he see their imbalance, how they were drawn to him as moths to a flame, overwhelmed by his personality. But that did not matter. It only mattered that they took his word as law, did everything he asked of them, saw him as nearly a god.

And maybe, he saw himself kind of as a god. Or at least, a minor deity.

But that was the thing. The people, the ones that he actively recruited on his quest, were the ones that looked for something more. They were the ones that needed something in their lives, something more than a dreary existence. He was not a heavenly beacon, but he was a place they could focus their attention.

Either way, it made no difference to Kuno Tatewaki. All that mattered was that he brought more people under his wing. The more people he had, the easier it was to rid first the city, then the country, then the world of demons and their kind.

And indeed, things started slowly, simply, without fanfare.

There was nothing to be done about that. Such a delicate operation had to be built carefully from the ground up to avoid internal corruption. He couldn't afford to have any of his supporters turn against him.

So he worked slowly, and slowly, his group began to cleanse the city.

--

Shizamu led his customer to the darkened alley. It was the area he usually used for quickies like this; it was secluded and all the others knew it was his spot, so he had relative privacy there as well.

"What'll it be?" he asked in his false girlie voice, sounding more like he had just been kicked in the crotch than a real woman. And this night, he was anxious to finish. The high heels were killing his feet and the stockings itched like a son of a bitch. He had picked the wrong outfit.

"Usual, baby," the man answered huskily. Every Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday, and odd Mondays he showed up, wanting Shizamu's services. And he always got the same thing.

"You know how much; 2500 yen." And Shizamu was smart enough to always collect first, even with a regular.

"I know, I know." The man's voice was hushed, yet anxious as he pulled some bills from his pocket and gave them to Shizamu. Tucking them into his tight shirt, into the padded bra filled with tissue, Shizamu got to his knees and began undoing the man's pants.

He never heard the group of oddly dressed people come into the alley. He never knew they were there until the sharp pain at the base of his neck and he fell unconscious.

The two of them awoke later, side by side, in some old, drafty structure. They were tied down, or rather up, to large posts. In front of them, there was a considerable sized group of people dressed like monks. Surely they couldn't actually be monks, or else why...

"Foul sorcerer and he who consorts with demons," one of the figures said, his face obscured by darkness, "we know of your sinful activities, and now it is time that ye shall pay. So sayeth the Blue Thunder."

"Hey! Get me the hell down from here!" yelled Shizamu. This was the one thing he had always feared, though it had been a distant concern. No longer. "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you can't do this!"

Several of the figures chuckled at that.

"Look, I barely know this guy," the other man said. "I got no business with any of you."

"Yeah, I got no beef with you people, so why don't you just let us go," Shizamu said, his voice fearful.

"Quiet, sorcerer. Your words mean nothing to us. Prepare to be cleansed from this earth, once and for all!"

"Sorcerer? What are you talking about? I'm not any kind of sorcerer!" Shizamu proclaimed, getting very worried, panicking even. He squirmed futilely against his bonds, the rope chafing his wrists and ankles.

"Thy forked tongue will not save you this time." The figure turned to face the others, who were all kneeling. "He is the first. The first of many. Look upon his wicked countenance as he changes forms like a true hellspawn!"

Shizamu could see a person walk up to him, carrying some sort of large bucket, and immediately he knew what was about to happen.

"LEMME GO!" he screamed, yanking on the ropes as hard as he could, but it was no use. "Don't do that! Don't!"

The bucket of cold water was splashed in his face, and his whole body changed.

There was complete silence, except for the sounds of his former customer pulling against his bonds. No one screamed or gasped, or even laughed like Shizamu expected them to. There was silence.

Struggling against the clothes she was trapped in Shizamu tried to break free and escape, but there was too much for her to get tangled up in.

"Cease thy struggling, sorcerer. The truth has been exposed for all to see. And soon ye shall return to the flames from whence ye was born."

Shizamu was grabbed by rough hands and removed from the clothes that clung to the rough-hewn post. Each wing was grabbed painfully, and pulled away from her body, then she was held up for all to see.

"A beast he has become. Is this not proof of his sorcery?"

There were agreeable murmurs, and Shizamu knew her time was up.

"Then we shall proceed."

Hot water was dumped over Shizamu, allowing him to return to his original form and gender, but he was still held down by powerful hands.

"Hey... What the... What the hell was that?" the man asked, his voice frantic. "What'd you do to him?"

"We did nothing that the sorcerer has not done unto himself. We shall only bring him to justice. So sayeth the Blue Thunder."

"Look, let me go. I don't know what the hell that was, but I haven't got anything to do with him! You gotta believe me! It's all a mistake!"

"Oh, and so the unclean acts you were about to engage in were simple errors?" Kuno, still shrouded in shadow, asked.

"Yeah! Now just let me go. I don't know this freak at all."

"And yet, would not thy lies slide easily off thy tongue if thy life were at stake?"

"I don't..."

"Lies!" Kuno roared at the man. "The pit!"

"The pit!" the others yelled in response.

Whether he felt relief or utter fear for it, the man was being cut down from the post. None of the crazies made any move to harm, only restraining him. He was led over to a large trapdoor set in the floor, and he knew he didn't want to find out what was behind it.

One figure opened the trapdoor, revealing only darkness. "Throw him in. Cleanse the earth," the figure hissed, the voice serpent-like.

"Cleanse the earth," another figure said, the voice female.

"Yes. It begins. Remove this foul being from my sight," Kuno commanded.

Before the man could protest more, he was shoved forward into the dark hole, screaming the entire way.

The trapdoor was allowed to slam shut, cutting off any more noise from below.

"And now you," Kuno said, turning his attention back to Shizamu."Thy crimes of the blackest sorcery and villainy will truly be punished in the severest manner."

It took all of Shizamu's self-control not to cry. "It's not my fault... It was China..."

"China? Hold thy tongue. We shall not be swayed by lies..."

"Jusenkyo," Shizamu stuttered. "That's where it happened. That's how I got this way. It's a curse! I'm not a sorcerer!" he yelled, his voice getting hoarse with hopelessness. It was getting harder to hold back the tears.

"China. Jusenkyo..." There was something familiar about that word. "It matters not!" Kuno said, snapping back to reality. "We have observed thy evil deeds, thy devious shape-changing waysinvolving water. Yes, we have seen it all, and it has been determined that thy life is forfeit.

"Thy demonic form as a bat proves thy tainted blood. Thy ability to bewitch and enslave, even men, proves thy sorcerous powers. Now face thy fate, face death, black sorcerer." Kuno held out his hand, and there was an object placed in it. His fingers closed around it slowly.

"Thy time has come," he said quietly, and raised his arm. The blade he held reflected some light long enough for Shizamu to start screaming.

**2012 - Winter**

Strangely, no one cared or noticed all the mysterious disappearances, the spontaneous fires, the violence. To Kuno Tatewaki, it had nothing to do with luck. It had everything to do with destiny.

It was an obvious sign that the people appreciated the things he was doing. They were tired of the filth, the corruption, the spiritual suicide, just like he was. They were supporting him silently with their inaction, and that one little delusion was all he needed.

It wasn't the power that he wanted. He didn't care how many people followed him; they were only means to an end. It was all about the cause, the cleansing of the planet. It was the cause that brought them together, and it was the cause that would see them through.

They were all means to an end. They all strove for the greater glory. And with him leading them all, that glory would be achieved.

He would live to see a new world vision. His new world vision. And nothing would stop him, no matter what it took.

The pit in the old monastery became a very popular place. It smelled a little funny, but no one was in the monastery any longer to complain. The pit would stay a very popular place for quite a while.

**2014 - Summer**

Night in the city is still dark, no matter how many lights there are. The shadows seem to gather in the proper places, to wait for any unsuspecting victims to enter.

One such victim had stepped out of the light and into the shadows by accident.

The wiry man grabbed the woman from behind and slammed her against the wall of a building. Immediately, a knife was being pressed to her throat, and the man was warning her of keeping silent.

The woman, while panicking slightly (it couldn't be avoided), kept her eyes on her attacker; she would identify him later, and then he would be in big trouble. As the knife bit into her skin, she had to briefly wonder if she would even be able to report the crime.

"Whatever you want, just... just don't kill me," she begged, refusing to cry in front of the piece of street trash.

The man looked around quickly, his eyes darting to and fro, the sweat shining on his forehead. "Yeah, whatever I want, bitch. I know," he hissed at her. He applied more pressure on the knife so that it drew blood from the soft skin of her neck.

The woman whimpered as she felt the blood ooze from the cut.

"Villain." The voice came from the darkness, sounding almost like it was the darkness itself. "Base and foul... Face your punishment not from behind the skirts of a woman."

The man, a petty crook by trade, turned and looked to where he thought the voice was coming from. "Who's there? Don't get any closer!" he warned, waving his knife.

"And now he threatens the servants of God. To what depths has the city sunk? That we worked so hard to cleanse. Our work is incomplete; we must double our efforts."

There were answering murmurs from the shadows.

"I don't know who the hell you are, but I'll stick ya if you don't leave me alone!" The man was frightened. He might have been a criminal, but he was not crazy. Not crazy like whoever was in the shadows.

"Feel our retribution!" came the voice again. The shadows seemed to swell, and four figures clad in black robes swarmed him with their own weapons.

He never had a chance really, as he was summarily thrashed and left to bleed to death on the ground.

The woman, looking from the unconscious criminal to the people in the black robes, smiled tentatively. "Thank you," she said.

"'Twas our duty. There should not be fear of such villainy. There should not be the corruption that causes such villainy," a different figure spoke.

The woman nodded slowly. When it wasn't safe to walk down the streets of the city, even in a good area, that was when things were out of control. "You're right. I don't know how to thank you enough."

One figure bowed, then they disappeared back into the darkness.

At the end of the summer, crime was at an all time low, and the cases of vigilantism had skyrocketed. There was a new name on people's lips, associated with the reform of the city, the country.

That name was of the seemingly mild-mannered reformist named Kuno Tatewaki.

**2015 - Spring**

He shouldn't have been nervous, but he was. He was the Blue Thunder. The Blue Thunder was above being nervous. Sort of. The crowd of people before him was quite large, larger than his group of followers. And they were all waiting for him to speak.

They wanted to hear what he had to say because they knew he was right. They knew he was the one that could save them from the evil in the world.

Giving himself new confidence, glancing arrogantly at the group of curious photographers and reporters, then looked back at the waiting crowd. He began to speak.

He captivated them. He spoke his most sincere beliefs from his heart, with passion and vigour, and they believed him. The notoriety he was gaining meant he had to... put up a front, but it was a small price to pay when he could see the world changing around him. Very soon now, Kuno Tatewaki knew, it would all be his to control, it would all be under his influence.

As spring approached summer, the weather warming more, it became more difficult for the Blue Thunder to participate in the nightly hunts with his followers. It seemed that his presence was always required by some news agency or camera crew. He had to constantlyprepare for such things, which meant he couldn't concentrate on the most important thing.

"Kuno-sensei!" A small boy ran up to him, causing the several bodyguards around him to stiffen.

Tatewaki held them back and smiled at the boy. "And what is it you wish of me?" he asked.

The boy stood before him, breathless from running. "My Mommy says you saved her! She says you saved the city! Now we don't have to move away and leave all my friends behind!" The boy thrust out his hand where he was holding a severely damaged daisy.

Tatewaki took the flower gently from the boy. "Thy words shall be remembered. Know that thy family has a place amongst the holy."

The boy smiled happily and stared for a moment. Then he ran off, giggling, to tell his mother what had happened.

The face of the country had definitely changed.

**2015 - Summer**

"The world, you say."

"Yes, Kuno-sensei. Europe, South America, Africa, the United States, everywhere. It is a great day for your following," the young man said, dressed in a more casual outfit of dark suit pants, white shirt and conservative tie.

"Indeed. I had not anticipated this much growth in so short a period of time," Tatewaki said thoughtfully. He was dressed in his more traditional monk robes in preparation for speaking to yet another gathering.

"The twenty-first century has been unkind; many people are searching for the type of spiritual guidance you give them. They follow your example, they follow Japan's example. In fact, Japan's become the center of interest around the world. Just last week, a group from the United North African Nations and combined Greek and Roman Independent Powers arrived."

Tatewaki nodded. He had heard that, and that he was requested to meet them, but previous engagements had prevented him from doing so. He knew that it was a simple political ploy from the UNAN anyway and had no desire to get mixed in with their problems.

He would have liked to speak with the GRIP representatives because he had read of their difficulty with the Vatican in the previous months. Possibly a private meeting without the publicity involved.

Everything he did seemed to involve publicity anymore.

It was enough to drive a humble monk insane.

**2016 - Fall**

The travel was an inconvenience. He was requested to speak all over the world at all times, and he often ended up saying the same things over and over again. Life as a well-renowned reformist, public speaker, monk, and active neo-religio-political figure was beginning to take its toll on him.

It seemed that he was forced to accommodate everyone, while he hadnothing for himself. This could not continue; it could not be expected of him. It could not be expected of anyone.

All he wanted, now that it seemed the world had come very close to cleansing itself, was to concentrate on those last bastions of corruption and demon spawning. Though he never admitted that out loud. It would have been far too radical for the gentle populace.

Luckily, he still had those in his confidence who knew of what everything had started with. He knew what it would end with too.

"I request a report," he said briskly.

Immediately, there were three people ready to take down his orders and complete them. "Yes, Kuno-sensei?"

"I wish to know more about a most... corrupted place known only as Jusenkyo." He looked out the window idly as he spoke, knowing the information he desired would be presented to him in a suitably hastymanner.

"Jusenkyo. Kuno-sensei, in which region is this located, if you know?"

"Jusenkyo in the wilds of the Chinese Republic," he answered, a definite tone of disgust in his voice.

"Chung Kuo, Kuno-sensei. They no longer wish to be..."

"Silence! I wish to know everything about Jusenkyo so that I might smite it from the face of the planet!"

That sent the three away in a hurry, and Kuno Tatewaki was left alone with his deliberations.

His quest for the destruction of Jusenkyo was never completed.

The exact location was never discovered, the Chung Kuo government not cooperating at all in the quest.

For six years, the quest for Jusenkyo, and its nightmarish ability to spawn demons, continued, along with Kuno Tatewaki's fame and influence throughout the world.

**2022 - Summer**

"I'd like to volunteer."

"Volunteer? We don't have much call for volunteers. What kind of skills do you have?"

The young Gosunkugi Kyoofu lifted an eyebrow at the question.

"Skills? I want to speak to Kuno Tatewaki."

The man laughed in Kyoofu's face at that. "You? You're a KID! He wouldn't have anything to talk to you about! Little boy, go home and go to school now. We have important things to worry about."

The man continued to laugh and turned away from Kyoofu.

Kyoofu tsked, then walked past the man and to the elevator. The doors opened automatically for him, and he stepped inside, pushing the button for the uppermost floor.

The elevator door opened once again, revealing an open room currently devoid of people. Kyoofu strode forward to the large set of double doors, put a hand on each handle, turned and pushed open the doors, effectively making a grand entrance into Kuno Tatewaki's private rooms.

Everyone currently there stopped to look at the brash young man that had just barged in. They all got looks of outrage on their faces except for one.

"And to what do we owe this visit?" Tatewaki asked calmly.

The calm in his voice relaxed the others, but not completely.

"I've seen you," Kyoofu said confidently, though he was still a touch nervous. "I know you. I know you can do bigger things than waste your time as some temple icon. You've changed the world, so whydon't you rule it?" Kyoofu mentally berated himself. He sounded like a bad salesman.

"The young man desires my counsel. Leave us," Tatewaki said simply.

The others all glared at Kyoofu as they walked past him and out the doors.

With the doors shut, Kyoofu managed to relax some. It was obvious that Kuno Tatewaki was a reasonable man, no matter how demented he might have been. He just had to appeal to that reason to get what he wanted.

"Kuno-sensei, your popularity is unparalleled. Whatever you desire is yours to take. You've changed the world almost on your own. Your influence is boundless. It would be so easy for you... to..."

Kyoofu ground to a halt when he saw the small smile on Tatewaki's face.

"An interesting idea, indeed. What is thy name, young man?"

"Gosunkugi. Gosunkugi Kyoofu," he answered.

Tatewaki's face darkened at the mention of the name. Though this one seemed to have none of the sorcerous leanings that his relatives did. And strangely, he looked somewhat familiar. That dark gaze and the eyes like those of a rat, quick and intelligent. Those he could not mistake as the eyes of his mysterious visitor. There was a higher power at work here, and how could he deny the power that seemed determined to bring about his rise to status of semi-deity.

"Gosunkugi Kyoofu, expound."

Kyoofu felt a shiver of excitement run through him. It was working.

2022 - Winter

As soon as the name of Kuno Tatewaki was made known to be in the political race, nothing could stop him. It was more than a landslide.

The ease with which he had won... It hadn't mattered that he had decided, with the help of his group of advisors, especially one Gosunkugi Kyoofu, to try for political office only four months ago.

He was too popular, too beloved to be denied.

And then he was too powerful to be denied.

While he was powerful, his advisors were powerful. And his most\ trusted, most intelligent, most resourceful advisor shared quite healthily in that power. More so than he should have.

**2023 - Spring**

"Kuno-sensei, you must prepare for your speaking engagement. Don't trouble yourself with that; I'll take care of it." Kyoofu moved the stack of papers away from Tatewaki and tried to get him to stand.

"You can't let these little things get in the way of the larger picture. The welfare of the people's spirit... that's your concern."

Tatewaki stood up slowly, looking at the papers Gosunkugi had taken away. He was getting a strange feeling about this young man.

One he didn't like.

And the next week.

"Kuno-sensei, that's already been taken care of for you. It's not your concern. You've got a press conference to worry about; you need to get ready."

And the next.

"Kuno-sensei, I'll do it. It's too much of a burden for you. It's more important that you work on your speech to the UN conglomeration."

And for the next month.

"Kuno-sensei, just relax. You have nothing to worry about. Just... go about your regular business. Leave the Foundation to me. You don't need to worry about the little stuff while you've got the big rally coming up."

Then there came a point where Gosunkugi Kyoofu WAS the Foundation.

He did everything. He ran everything. And Kuno Tatewaki was little more than a popular figurehead with some extreme eccentricities.

What exactly went on in the Kuno Foundation was no longer his concern, as Gosunkugi reminded him so often. He had even overheard Gosunkugi mentioning something about Kodachi on the secured phone. He had been whispering so it was hard to tell, but Gosunkugi hadn't looked very happy at all.

Then Gosunkugi had turned and saw him standing there, and the little man had had the nerve to yell at him! Imagine, the man Kuno Tatewaki had brought to power, no matter how accidentally, was yelling at him after he had been talking about Kodachi.

But did it really matter? He had his own life, things to worry about, when Gosunkugi allowed him, and Kodachi had hers, and maybe he should just mind his own business. Besides, he had plenty of stuff to do.

Didn't he? It seemed that lately, it had gotten hard to think straight. He couldn't concentrate on much of anything, and had to rely on writers to prepare speeches for him.

It had gotten so bad, he couldn't remember what speeches he was giving, or what ones he had given the week before. Yet, he rationalized that it was simple stress and fatigue, and that it was a good thing Kyoofu was handling things.

Wasn't it?

--

'Chords, vibrations, and harmonic ecstasies echoed passionately on every hand, while on my ravished sight burst the stupendous spectacleof ultimate beauty.'

- 'Beyond the Wall of Sleep' by H.P. Lovecraft

--

**2032 - Winter**

Boring. That was the one word that seemed to describe the "life" of a ghost best for Akane. Boring. There was only so much satisfaction to be had from observing everything. Not to mention, the world wasn't all that pleasant to sight-see around.

Sure, she had come across other ghosts before, but... Frankly, she hadn't been too fond of them. Oh, sure, they had been someone to talk to, but, well... it just wasn't all that great. No beating around the bush; it was awful. How they moaned of things left undone, their families and friends, how it was so unfair and how miserable they were.

Like she didn't know this. She had only been 16 and had left plenty of things undone. She knew how unfair it was and how miserable she was; she didn't need some glowing blob of angst telling her that.

So the loneliness was better than suffering through someone else's mistakes and problems.

And that brought her to where she was at the moment. Boredom and curiosity, and maybe even a touch of fright.

She had been working up the courage, after seeing some of the other less pleasant things that had happened to her friends and family. She had one other person that maybe she didn't really want to see, but the curiosity was enough to kill her. Again.

That curiosity led her to the building she was currently standing in front of. Looking up, she could see, just barely, the top floor.

That was where she was heading.

Getting there wasn't the problem. No one could see her, and she simply passed through any sort of security... It was having to go through it all without fleeing in horror. The fact that this was what the world had become, more so than what was outside, sickened her.

Unable to ride the elevator to the top as no one ever went up there, Akane was stuck looking for an alternate way. Wandering the halls of an upper floor, she closed her eyes to everything that went on around her until she was able to locate the emergency stairs.

It seemed that not even the vaunted Kuno Foundation could get around those. And as she headed up the stairs, she could feel the intimidation building within her.

She still wasn't sure why she was doing such a foolish thing.

It was simple curiosity and she didn't need to do it. Yet, she knew that if she didn't, she would always wonder...

The door was amazingly simple for leading to a penthouse. It looked like all the other doors, except it was labeled with a 'P'.

Hoping that it wouldn't be like the rest of the building, she passed through the door.

Impressive was the first word that came to mind. She had seen luxury, but none of it topped this. Almost the entire penthouse was open, not divided into separate rooms as normally seen. The sunlight streaming through the windows made the place rather cheery looking, but the true nature of it could not be disguised.

It had almost a tangible aura as a prison.

The prisoner was currently kneeling in the middle of the floor, his head bowed and eyes closed. There could be no mistaking who it was. "Kuno-sempai," she whispered, almost in awe.

He raised his head then, opening his eyes slowly. He looked right at her, and Akane instinctively froze. It took a few seconds for her to get over that, knowing that he couldn't see her.

Akane began to walk to her right, meaning to investigate the penthouse more closely, but as she moved, he tracked her. Telling herself it was simply coincidence, she walked back to her left,watching him out of the corner of her eye. Still he watched her.

Finally, Akane couldn't help herself. She faced him and met his gaze. He was most definitely looking at her, right in her eyes.

"How... You can see me?" Akane asked, slightly afraid.

"An angel. You're my angel! You're my sign from Heaven that I've done things right!" he cried out suddenly. Any sort of act, practiced personality as the Blue Thunder was gone. Seeing Akane there, once more, his soul cried out for her, to possess her.

"I'm not an angel. I'm not a sign a from Heaven." She wanted to run, to leave, but there was something so strangely captivating about the situation, standing there in front of Kuno Tatewaki, the apparent saviour of the world. And she could feel the need within him, the intangible force of his soul touch her incorporeal body.

"Don't deny it. Don't deny your purpose for coming here. Tell me that I've done it all for a reason. Tell me that I've done good, andthat the world is a better place. Please, tell me that I don't have to do this any longer." He remained on his knees from his meditation, but it looked more like he was begging her.

Akane took a step back. The feeling she was getting from him was strange, almost comforting. How badly he needed her, how desperately he did... it was comfort and power and sadness and pity all wrapped together, and it almost brought tears to her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said quietly.

"But it's you! It's you and you're dead! If you're not an angel, what are you? I can't believe you're a demon. I will not believe it!" He got to his feet slowly, as if his strength had left him many years ago. "Tell me why you've come."

Getting more and more nervous about the encounter, Akane backed up more. Any farther and she would end up passing through the door. "I don't know. I just wanted..."

The sudden fury on his face was terrifying to her. "You left once and you took my soul. And now you've returned. Is it to mock me? To make light of the fact that I was never able to have you, even when you were my life?" He took one small step forward, his hand clenching into a fist.

"Your fault. Saotome's fault... The monastery. Everything was because of you!" he yelled at her, then fell back to his knees, exhausted. His head was down, avoiding looking at the apparition.

"It was all because of you... Everything. Because of you, for you, because I needed you and couldn't live without you.

"Somehow, I managed to. I don't know how."

"I... I shouldn't have come. I just wanted to see how things were. I'm sorry." Akane was about to pass through the door and escape the building as quickly as possible.

"No!" he said sharply. "Please, don't leave again," he pleaded.

"You're the only one... You haven't changed, and everyone else has sunk into the pit of my obsession with me." He hung his head, unable to meet her frightened eyes.

"Unless this is simply another delusion, another lie I make to try and feel better about the world. The world that I've created..." He looked up at her then, his eyes sad and filled with pain. "No. I haven't created anything. I've only destroyed, and the others... they used me to shape things the way they wanted them to be."

Silence. Akane couldn't believe what she was hearing. Though, it did stand to reason that after her... her death, maybe he would have learned, or gotten better, or grown up. Maybe if everyone hadn't died...

"And I let them. I could have stopped them if I wanted to. I didn't need to give in to their demands, but what else did I have?"

Paralysed, Akane listened, was forced to listen to the things that had happened because she... The things that were her fault. The things that were Ranma's death's fault. The things that were Happosai's fault.

"The one thing I had lived for was taken away from me, and nothing would bring it back. Nothing would bring you back. And now..." He looked up at her and there was a glint of true madness in his eyes.

"Do you know what Tofu's done? Can you see that?"

Akane shook her head. She wasn't sure she wanted to know either.

He smiled wickedly at her, arrogantly, and a tiny bit of his old self shone through. "After he blackmailed me, he didn't try very hard at keeping secret how he plans to bring your sister back to life."

The wickedness shifted quickly to pure anger. "And his vengeance is pure, for she has tainted you, poisoned your name, soiled your memory. His vengeance... should be my vengeance."

Akane closed her eyes momentarily, his spirit still clutching at her. "Kuno-sempai..."

"And she was dead! I saw her in pieces and he'll bring her back to life! She'll be alive, but her punishment won't be enough, and I'll have to start all over again because she's dead! She's dead and she should stay that way!" Things started to slide past him. Alive dead alive dead dead dead dead alive they were all dead!

Akane could feel it now. She could feel his tentative hold on his sanity, his grief, his anger, his pain, and she couldn't help herself. She wanted to run, but she didn't. "What happened? How did this happen?" Her feet moved her forward.

"I can't stand it any longer. I can't do it. I've failed; I know I have. The world is a better place for the others. The world is still as miserable as I remember it after you died." He shook hishead.

"It's all a lie. The Consistency trials may seem like a good idea, but... Consistency is a lie. Consistency doesn't exist in anything. Everything must change. I wish it hadn't."

The strange wistful turn his words had taken bolstered Akane.

She walked forward until she stood directly in front of him. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He laughed harshly. "Sorry. If it were only that easy. If only sorry could take back all the things that had happened. If it could take back what had happened to your sisters, what had happened to..."

All those people he had "cleansed" in his name. "Even now, I wish for..." He wished for it, wished for the return to the old days. If it meant he was old and alone, it mattered not, because it would mean things would be different. He wished for it, but he could not say it aloud.

He wished for Saotome Ranma to be alive once again.

He could not say it though. "I wish it did. I would tell you I was sorry and then you would stay with me forever; you would stay with me and make me complete because I yearn for you. I have yearned for you for 40 years, though I don't know why."

"Obsession," Akane said simply, though she knew it wasn't wholly true.

"If it was that easy to explain, things would not be as you see them now. I am not obsessed with you, Tendo Akane. Quite simply, I need you. I have always needed you. I shall always need you. You... you are my life. Without you, I am nothing. The day you died was the day I was cast into Hell, never to return." His eyes fairly glowed with muted fury. Glowed with the fires of Hell, the ethereal flames that had claimed him in the monastery all those years ago.

"Kuno-sempai, I don't know what to say."

"You need not say anything. I know perfectly well how you feel about me. Why else would you come to taunt me?" The fire in his gaze seemed to die out at that, and his face grew sad again.

"I'm not here to taunt you! I just..."

"It is a delusion then. Strange. I thought those had stopped once I had ceased taking Ono's 'vitamins'. No doubt, he has other ways of keeping me carefully controlled." A tiny, rueful smile managed to show itself on his face as he looked at Akane.

It was too much. Akane had never heard this side of things. She knew how... difficult it had been for Tofu with Kasumi's... But drugging Kuno? That seemed insane! "I'm not a delusion. I'm a ghost."

Kuno's smile grew, it even became somewhat... caring. "Ah, then you've come to haunt me. It matters not. Even in your current state, your presence soothes me. Had you appeared years earlier, I might have found the strength to stand up to Ono. Alas, it's too late."

"Too late? Too late for what?" This was far more interesting than simply observing, yet Akane had no idea how he could see and hear her. Apparently, he didn't either.

"It's too late for your sister. I'm afraid I had a hand in that, though... I'm not sure whether I'm happy or sad over it."

"Kasumi?" Akane asked in a very weak voice. How could he know? No one should have known about that!

"No. Nabiki." With the movements of a very old man, he stood and moved to sit on the plush couch that he rarely used. It was a comfort this day.

"What about my sister?"

"She killed Kasumi. She framed Ryouga, and then she tried to kill herself." He ignored the shocked look on Akane's face; he was too tired to deal with it all. "Onocorp is quite talented at keeping people alive... and bringing them back to life." He shrugged in a gruesomely simple manner compared with the things he was saying.

"Your sister, who sullied your name, shall be in the service of the Kuno Foundation."

The way he said it made Akane's skin crawl. "How?"

"The standard methods of degradation and servitude they employ. Yes, they; not I. The Kuno Foundation has nothing to do with me or my sister or my long dead father, and there are no descendants...Indeed, if any woman besides you would have been able to help me, I doubt she would have ever been attracted to me. Nor would Ono have allowed it."

And therein lay the problem. He was being controlled by a ruthless man, more insane than he had ever been. He was being controlled the same way he had been... Kyoofu. That little bastard Kyoofu.

And he hadn't even seen it. He hadn't even cared. Everything had been pulled out from underneath him, and he had let them do it.

How long? How long ago had they gently removed all power from his hands and left him a foolish puppet?

A puppet of Ono and Gosunkugi. The thought, if it hadn't been so horrifying, would have made him laugh. In fact, he did laugh, but it was harsh and bitter with no mirth at all.

"What irony... The people of the world were my puppets, and yet, I was Ono's puppet. I was Gosunkugi's puppet. I had been used, and it's only fitting that I am here now."

His eyes slid closed, and he said nothing more.

The desperate grabbing had ceased, to Akane's relief, and it was now muted down to a soft stroking sensation. They were the only terms Akane could think of, but they fit. His spirit was stroking her in a manner that made her ache with loneliness, desire the companionship of Ranma.

She left then, without another word. She wouldn't be able to stand him begging her to stay.

It was strange. It had been a long time since Akane had been able to talk to anyone, and frankly, the conversation with Kuno had been almost refreshing. As warped and weird as it might have been.

She had avoided everyone as much as possible in the days following her visit to the Kuno Foundation... stronghold, thinking about the things she had heard. But what could she do? She was a ghost and forced to exist with the knowledge, the weight of it all resting on her shoulders. And she was alone. That was the worst part of it all.

The process was simpler the second time. She knew right where to go. Now if she could only gather the courage to pass through that door with the letter P on it... Several times she started to, but the thought of the things he had told her held her back. It was like a horrible car accident; she didn't want to, but she did want. She needed to.

Nodding firmly once, she passed through the door without a second thought. The sun was much muted this time, but other than that, the scene was the same.

"Kuno-sempai," Akane called, not approaching his figure kneeling on the floor. "I'm back."

Lifting his head slowly, Tatewaki looked at the apparition.

Instead of the amazed joy that had been on his face when he had first believed it was her, there was only sadness this time.

"So you've returned. How appropriate that it would be a ghost to keep me company in this cage without bars. I am already a ghost, without life, without freedom, without anything."

"Should I leave? I just wanted..."

"Don't leave. You may stay as long as you like. I shall receive no visitors. I never do. Sometimes, Ono requests my presence, but no one ever comes up here." Tatewaki sighed heavily, breaking from his strictly formal kneeling position to sit with his legs crossed.

It was so absurdly normal, Akane almost wanted to laugh. Seeing his lack of emotion, she approached him, her figure becoming even more insubstantial in the sunlight. "I have to ask, how can you see me? I haven't met many people that have been able to see me. No one that's actually understood what I was..."

Smiling, looking like he might fall asleep, dreaming of better things, Tatewaki said, "Who is to say? I saw the demon before, and I see you now. Though I refuse to believe it has anything to do with my tenuous connection to my spiritual center.

"Let us simply say that I am damned, already dead, and that is how, because I truly do not know." He opened his eyes widely for a moment, as if he was trying to wake himself up. "And angel or not, I know that I am blessed by your presence."

"Please don't say that. I made such a... horrible mistake. I hate this, hate being like this. All I ever wanted was to be with Ranma..." Akane sat on the floor a few feet away. "That was the only thing, and now look what I've done. If he was here, he'd call me a stubborn, clumsy, tomboy that couldn't even die in the right way."

She laughed a little, tears sliding own her cheeks.

"It should have been me."

Akane looked up at Tatewaki. "What?"

"It should have been me. It should have been my presence that the world rid itself of, not yours. I have done nothing, but destroy and be used as a puppet..." Tatewaki smiled widely then, true mirth on his face. "That is my life's destiny. I shall always be someone's puppet. There is no escaping it."

For some reason, the situation was enough to break Akane's heart.

She had no one, a ghost doomed to walk eternally without anyone. Tatewaki was the living dead, not a person, not alive. They made a strange pair indeed.

"I grow tired of this existence," Tatewaki continued. "I grow tired of this, but Ono will not let me die. He and Gosunkugi think I don't know their little schemes... Hiding and pretending wassomething I gave up after Ono wasn't happy with the money I gave him. After he demanded more and more...

"I know how they control me. The strings are no longer hidden. They control me, and through me, they control the people. And through the people, they control the world. Everything, and it's all because of my stupidity.

"And all I want to do is die now."

That was the one unique and special thing about being a ghost for Akane. She could feel his spirit, feel that it had given up, and she knew, deep inside, that when she had died, he had as well.

Everything was so unfair! Why did it all have to hinge on that one act? That one hateful act of Happosai... Why did it all have to happen that way? And why did she have to be so helpless now?

No matter how much she had liked Dr. Tofu, or how much he had loved Kasumi, things had gone too far. In Akane's opinion, after hearing about the things he was planning, he was far worse than Kodachi had ever been.

"Kuno-sempai, do you really think that my sister has to be punished for what she did?" she asked.

Tatewaki looked at her, completely unemotional. "I don't care any longer. If she does, it's not in any way that Ono would do it. She attempted to do the honourable thing, and while I have called for vengeance against her in the past, I realize that it is a foolish thing now. What would it accomplish?" He sighed heavily, drained from the admission of weakness on his part.

"Kuno-sempai," Akane said, thinking her words through carefully, "I've seen some of the things Dr. Tofu's done. I saw it all, and it scared me. I don't like what he's done. Kuno-sempai, maybe... maybe it's time you did something about it." This was a big risk on Akane's part. There was no telling what kind of reaction she would get.

"If I could, I would. His endless blackmailing grows tiresome, but what am I to do? He knows all the secrets about me, about my sister..."

"So what? Does it matter? You said you were tired of it anyway. So who cares if he starts revealing your secrets? What's the worst that will happen? You won't be their puppet?" Akane asked. She got the feeling that she might be getting somewhere with this.

"Their tortures are aplenty, Tendo Akane. You have no idea..."

"So what? Wouldn't it be worth it to have your revenge on them? To get back for all that they've done against you? To leak out all their dirty little secrets? You've got to know some of them." It was strangely exhilarating, talking about revealing someone's most hidden secrets in a malicious manner like this, where no one else would know.

That moment, Akane knew what it was that Nabiki had always found so fabulously fun about knowing things others didn't. Powerless as a lone ghost, with someone that could actually see and hear her, she could do almost anything.

"Kuno-sempai, I want to help you. I want to help you put things right."

Akane didn't leave the Kuno Foundation building very often. It was funny how blatant people were when they thought no one was watching, no one could see them. All in all, no one would ever know who or how besides Kuno. But... Was it the unfairness of death that did this to her, that made her malicious and vindictive? Maybe, but she didn't care.

"What's the worst thing, the absolute worst thing that's ever been done by Onocorp? Or the K... Foundation?" she asked, starting to get quite enthusiastic.

Tatewaki looked down at the floor and even chewed his lip a little. "I'm not sure. There are many secrets, but as for which would be most damaging, I can't say."

"Anything that has to do with the public, the people? Or maybe..."

"Well, it's not common knowledge how intertwined Onocorp and the Foundation are. And there has been quite a bit of protest over some of Onocorp's experimental work. If it got out that..."

Akane's eyes lit up with malicious glee. "Yeah, that would be a good place to start."

"Start?" Tatewaki asked. It still felt like some sort of weird dream to him, something induced by more of Ono's drugs.

"Yes. You don't think you can just stop by getting egg on their faces? Something like that would blow over in no time. People would forget about it as soon as the next great discovery was made." Akane had learned a few things wandering. She still looked 16, but she was far from naive, far from innocent. She had a pretty good idea how a place like Onocorp would operate.

"I suppose not. But what else..."

"Anything. Whether it's the truth or something we have to make up, it doesn't matter. But don't we see? We... you have the power over them. You just need to use it."

Tatewaki was looking off into the distance. He began to nod his head slowly. "Yes... I do have the power over them," he said absently. "I do."

Akane smiled proudly. Yes, things were going better than she could have expected.

"Once this happens, they will know immediately who's done it. There is no hiding my identity," Tatewaki said to Akane. "And I've never been fond of these machines either..."

"You've never used one?"

"Not for more than a few minutes."

Akane frowned. That wouldn't do. They needed to do it quickly, get the information and leave as fast as possible to delay the inevitable. "That's the point," she said absently, trying to think of a way around the problem. "You want them to know it's you, right? You want to force a confrontation."

Tatewaki nodded, his hands resting uncomfortably on the keyboard.

"Well, why don't we try just looking around the system first. It might be menu-based, and I think we could handle that," Akane offered. It wasn't like she had any more experience on the thing than he did; she just had a clearer mind.

Swallowing and taking a quick breath, Tatewaki typed in his username and password. That much he had not forgotten. The cursor blinked at him for a few moments before it acknowledged that he was logged in.

His last login date appeared, along with the announcement that he had new mail. Pressing return to get to the meat of the system, the two looked at the simplistic menu that appeared on the screen. Akane immediately pointed at the option for Intelligence/Surveillance reports, but Tatewaki shook his head.

"I must check my mail first," he proclaimed.

Rolling her eyes, Akane proceeded to drum her fingers through the table while he went through his mail.

Strangely enough, when he opened it, there were only two messages, both from the highly respected Chief Executor Gosunkugi Kyoofu. Akane could see Tatewaki's jaw clench as he looked at the screen.

"Read them," she said quietly. "See what he has to say."

The first message came up, and the animosity was almost tangible in the air. "The little worm," Tatewaki whispered. "Doing Ono's bidding..."

The message was simple and straightforward, with no pretext of respect or goodwill. 'Ono wishes your presence. New materials to try out. Will send escort next week, Thursday. Gosunkugi'

"Why did he mail this if you never check it?" Akane asked.

"Why do you think? He delights in my torment." Tatewaki remembered that Thursday very well, having been over a month ago. "I was as I normally am, meditating, when Gosunkugi's gang of brutes stormed in and bodily removed me. It was most humiliating."

Akane nodded. She bet it was probably frightening too, but knew he would never admit to that. "What are those new materials he's talking about?"

The sudden look of hopelessness on Tatewaki's face made her wish she hadn't asked. "Often, the good doctor finds various materials that he finds use in testing on me."

"Drugs..."

Tatewaki nodded. "In a way, they were a good thing for a time. They kept me from seeing how futile it all was, how horribly I was being used. When I took them, I didn't care about anything. What easier way to control someone than if they care about nothing?" He stabbed at the 'd' key to delete the message. "Then I stopped taking them. I stopped taking the pills and vitamins, and stopped eating for the most part. Survival has not been easy."

There was silence as he stared sourly at the monitor and Akane looked at him, now even more disgusted by the man she had thought was so kind and friendly, Ono Tofu.

"He demanded more money then, as well. I gave it to him, of course, for I could not refuse. My secrets were too important to me to let everyone see. I couldn't let anyone know..." Tatewaki said sadly.

A snarl on her face, Akane shook her head. "It's not your fault, Kuno-sempai." One tear rolled lazily down her face.

Tatewaki hit return to read the next message. 'Presence required. Next week, Tuesday. Gosunkugi'

He looked at the date on the message. Over a week ago, and it was currently Tuesday...

"Tuesday? Isn't that..." Akane started to say.

The elevator chimed softly and the door opened revealing a group of men, looking nothing like the monks that he had used as escorts before. The group of six men exited the elevator calmly, walked over to Tatewaki, who looked at them with shock, and grabbed his arms. They lifted him, and when he refused to walk, they dragged him to the elevator.

"Please now, Kuno-sensei," Kyoofu said as he waited in the elevator, "don't fight. Just cooperate."

Akane followed them into the elevator and could hear the insult in the young man's voice as he addressed Kuno. She could also see that he had a syringe in the hand at his side, just in case. "Kuno-sempai, where are we going?" she asked.

Standing calmly amidst the men, Tatewaki asked imperiously, "What do you desire of me now?"

"Settle down, Kuno-sensei. Director Ono has something to discuss," Kyoofu answered, his voice velvety smooth.

"I have nothing to discuss with him," Tatewaki said with a sneer.

"That's fine, because I don't think he wants to hear anything of what you have to say." Kyoofu slipped the syringe back in his pocket; it seemed it wouldn't be necessary this time.

The elevator ride was made in silence until it reached the ground floor. The door opened to reveal a garage and a waiting car. This was, or would have been if he had cared, wholly unacceptable to the Blue Thunder.

"Where is my proper escort? I refuse to go anywhere without\ the..." He grunted a little as the needle was stuck into his arm. Right away, his thinking got hazy and speech wasn't a realistic capability.

"What we have here will do just fine, Kuno-sensei. Just fine..."

Kyoofu gestured at the car, and the group of men herded the Global Saviour into it.

Akane followed as four of the men, Kyoofu, and Kuno piled in the back of the car and the door was shut. She was sitting uncomfortably on the floor of the car among their feet, looking at the one Kuno had called Gosunkugi.

"Kuno-sempai, how did he..." When she looked back at Kuno, she could tell he was in no condition to be answering any of her questions.

His eyes were mostly closed, his mouth hung open, and his head lolled against his chest. Whatever they had given him was strong and fast working. That only made her more upset at them all. The fact that they couldn't even control him without drugs, didn't try... It was downright pathetic.

"That should keep you quiet on the way there," Kyoofu said, disposing of the used syringe, looking distastefully at his "superior".

Kyoofu shook his head. "Pathetic fool."

"Akane..." Tatewaki said, his voice horribly slurred.

"What is it, sempai?" she asked quietly, feeling very strange talking amongst all the other people there.

"Akane, why didn't you ever like me?" he asked, drawing stares from the other people in the car.

"I... I think you know why," she answered.

"I needed you..."

"You never showed it. You never showed it the way I needed someone to show it. Not until..."

"Ranma."

"Kuno-sensei, what are you talking about?" Kyoofu asked, leaning forward some.

Akane glanced at him and glared. "Don't talk to him, Kuno-sempai. He's one of the ones who did this to you. Don't tell him."

"I know. I won't."

"You won't what, Kuno-sensei?" Kyoofu asked.

"I can see why you don't like him very much. He's a slime," Akane said, shaking her head.

"He is. I never liked him."

Akane chuckled at that. "We'll talk later. I want to see where we're going."

"It won't be a pleasant visit."

"Don't worry about that. Just keep quiet."

It was Onocorp and the Kuno Foundation without the little signs out front. It was large and sombre and quite clinical looking. It was just about what Akane expected it to look like.

The car pulled down the long, winding drive and approached the sombre, windowless building. Akane found herself getting rather anxious, wanting to know exactly what was so horrible, but after what Kuno had said about Nabiki...

The car pulled around the back of the building into a well-secured garage. One of the windows was lowered ever so briefly to reveal a stony-faced guard, who nodded when seeing Kyoofu. "Good day, Chief Executor," he said, then stepped away from the vehicle.

The car continued onward until the only light came from the pale lights hanging overhead and there was no sign of the way they had come in. With the car coming to a gentle stop in front of a simple looking door, the car door was opened from the outside.

The man sitting next to Kyoofu was first to exit, with Kyoofu following him closely. "Please assist the Blue Thunder. He has an appointment to keep." Kyoofu adjusted his tie as he watched the men pull Kuno from the car.

"Don't shake him too much. We wouldn't want him making any messes on the carpet," Kyoofu added with a smirk.

"Yes, sir. We'll be careful."

"Yes. That unfortunate side effect hasn't been eliminated yet."

Kyoofu patted Tatewaki on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Kuno-sensei. With your help, I'm sure that puzzle will be solved in no time."

Akane followed close behind. "Kuno-sempai, how long do you think this will take?" she asked.

"Hour..." Tatewaki managed to answer, though he looked a little green and was obviously trying very hard not to be ill. He didn't know what they used on him, but it was far stronger than anything his sister had ever dreamed about.

While she had been a wanna-be, if skillful, chemist, she had nothing on the scientists at the Foundation and Onocorp. They were quite serious about their drugs.

"Kuno-sensei, what are these little mysteries you keep opening up to us?" Kyoofu asked him. "And please walk. These men aren't paid to be your baby-sitters."

Akane wanted to look around some, but she wanted to get a good look at Tofu before she left. She wanted to see the monster he had become. She wanted to see the man beneath the charming, silly exterior that her sister had married. She so desperately wanted to really feel something again, even if it was hatred and loathing.

The group rode up an elevator in silence except for the hitching sounds Tatewaki was making; Kyoofu stood as far away from him as possible. "I must remember to lower the dosage next time," he mentioned to himself. "It's never been this bad before."

He stepped only as close as necessary, and lifted Tatewaki's head. Using his thumb, he pulled open each eyelid to reveal very dilated pupils. Letting Tatewaki's head fall, Kyoofu nodded. "Definitely too much. The potency has increased, it seems."

Wishing for some sudden, painful death to befall the head of the Kuno Foundation, Akane stood back. She wanted nothing to do with this group of people and their lies and deceptions and blackmail, but it was like she was forced to do it. She couldn't just leave.

Instead of being totally consumed by her negative emotions, she tried something a little different. She had been able to feel Kuno's spirit trying to possess her. That meant she could influence him in some tangible way, no doubt. Even if she couldn't, she would try.

She extended herself, a small fragment of herself out to him and felt him immediately grab on to it. The next thing she did was the hardest she had ever done, besides giving up on Ranma. She gave a piece of herself to him.

He gobbled it up greedily, but Akane could feel the change. She could feel the change in herself, and in him, like he was also a part of her now, or she was a part of him. It was a little scary, and very strange, and she knew that it was how it would have felt if she and Ranma would have been ever able to continue their relationship past the point of insults and into the area of actual love.

Nothing could have made her sadder than that grim realization.

She had never hated herself more than in that moment. But before she had time to dwell on it extensively, the elevator arrived at its destination, and the door opened silently.

The men removed Tatewaki from the elevator with Kyoofu following lazily. He was not in any rush; these little get-togethers were invariably long and drawn out, boring for him really. He never bothered to sit in on them, though he was welcome to. It was far more relaxing to sit with a cup of coffee and chat with the pretty girl that was Tofu's administrative assistant.

Kyoofu nodded and smiled at her as Tatewaki was removed from their sight into Tofu's office. He just knew it would be longer than usual this time.

"Ah, it's about time you got here, 'Waki. I didn't want to have to send a second summons. I do so dislike repeating myself," Ono Tofu said from behind his desk as the men deposited Tatewaki on the floor and exited the room.

Tatewaki could only sit on the floor, his head alternating between a loud buzzing and inky darkness, and slowly rock himself.

Tofu sighed and shook his head. "When will you learn to cooperate? It would be so much simpler if you didn't resist; Kyoofu wouldn't be forced to subdue you." Tofu stood up and walked around his desk to lean against it as he watched Tatewaki. "You look rather awful this time."

Unbeknownst to him, Akane watched everything with cold, dispassionate eyes. She knew that if she tried hard enough, she could manifest herself, become visible to even those who could not see ghosts, and if she let her anger take hold of her, she would end up revealing her existence to Tofu. She wanted to avoid that at all costs.

The man before her was most definitely not the same man she had known. This man was cold and cruel, without compassion, without mercy. He was absorbed in his own ideas of vengeance and justice, and knew nothing about Kasumi. Kasumi would not have wanted any of this suffering that he was causing.

"Here, 'Waki, let me help you with that problem." Tofu had anticipated that Tatewaki might be somewhat resistant to coming to the meeting, so he had an "antidote" ready for him.

"Hold still, 'Waki," he warned as he prepared to inject the contents of the syringe into Tatewaki's arm.

Tatewaki's body jerked at the sudden flood of powerful stimulants through his system. Right away, the buzzing died down, and he felt almost completely back to normal. Except for one thing.

Tofu went back to leaning against his desk, and with his foot, pushed a small, lined can at Tatewaki. "You know how much I hate calling you away from your duties," he said as Tatewaki grabbed the can.

Watching the after-effects of the drugs take their hold, Tofu grimaced and shook his head. "You know if you get any of that on the floor, 'Waki, you're going to have to clean it up."

After a few more minutes of retching into the can, Tatewaki sat up, looking tired and drained. "What do you want now?" he asked, his voice hoarse, throat sore from the stomach acid.

"First, I think I want someone to get rid of that," Tofu replied, pointing at the can. He hit a button on his desk, which promptly summoned one of his lackeys. "Please take care of the Blue Thunder's mess."

The young man, another Ono in training probably, nodded, picked up the can and left.

"Why do you let them do this to you?" Akane asked. They barely treated him as an animal, and not with the same respect that an animal would have received.

Tatewaki shook his head; with his full faculties, he could not speak to her in front of Ono. He would know there was something up, even if Kyoofu was clueless.

"Now then, about last month's payment..." Tofu considered the person before him carefully. There was something wrong, something different. He would have to keep a closer eye on him. Tofu made a mental note to talk to Kyoofu about it.

"I'll be back, Kuno-sempai," Akane said then. "I'm going to look around." She could not stand to be in Ono Tofu's presence any longer.

She wandered through the building, really not finding anything all that interesting. There were offices and meeting rooms, and the usual things one might find in an office building. Yet, Akane knew that somewhere, Tofu had all his secrets hidden. All the things that a sane person would scream over, be outraged at, Akane knew they were here.

It was only when she went lower, found her way deeper, that she could see the beginnings of secrets. Security doors in various places, control rooms, laboratories, things she wasn't interested in.

And then she stumbled upon it.

Her body began to shake as she looked at the large room she was standing in. She had found it. She had found Tofu's dirty secret, and she was none too happy about it. This was what Kuno had told her about, this what he'd warned her about.

There, in front of her, was Nabiki's head, floating in a tank.

What made it even worse was the fact that it wasn't her disembodied head, but her soul. A perfect, slightly translucent, bluish-green image of her sister's head hovering the air. Instead of any sort of body, she had only a formless cloud that seemed to pulsate, almost like a heartbeat.

Akane put one hand over her mouth and stared. Stretching out from the cloud were five wispy tentacles of sorts, reaching out to four separate tanks, and one passed through a wall. That was bad, but it wasn't the worst.

The eyes. They were the worst. They were half-lidded and glassy, glazed over. Akane couldn't find any shred of consciousness or personality in the dead gaze, but they seemed to stare at her.

She moved to look at one of the tanks and glanced back. Still the eyes seemed to be looking at her. And when she saw what was in the tank, what the ethereal tentacle was trying to hold on to, her revulsion grew.

In the tank, floated, what Akane presumed to be, Nabiki's disembodied arm. The tentacle seemed to be trying to emulate the shape of the arm, though it was imperfect and incomplete. She looked back at the head, staring at her, then back at the tentacle/arm. There was a slight ripple along the length of the tentacle, radiating out from the head and moving down all the tentacles, and the hand twitched.

No, not just a twitch. The hand seemed to wave at her. The ripple moved the hand up and down slowly, the fingers splayed slightly apart, like they were floating in water. That was it for Akane. She left the room as quickly as she could through the nearest wall, doing the closest thing to throwing up a ghost could.

What she found there wasn't any better.

Akane ended up in a sterile room. The walls were off-white, smooth and seamless. There was a gentle humming of air processors, circulating clean, sterilized oxygen flowing into the room. There were other, less pleasant noises as well.

The gentle whir of precision machinery seemed to drown out all her other thoughts. The small, mechanical arms moved quickly, purposefully, with inhuman skill. It was necessary, for they were doing delicate work that took years to complete. And this wasn't the first attempt either.

Akane's eyebrow twitched and her ghostly form took on a greenish cast. All she could hear was the whirring. The whirring punctuated by the wet slapping sound. She watched, fascinated and horrified as the arms went about their gruesome task.

There were about ten of the arms, working in pairs, sorting through what could only be described as a pile of guts. Nabiki's guts. The arms would gently pick up a piece of... whatever it was, some internal organ or another, turn it over and around, as if they were looking for something on it, then drop it back down. That was the cause of the splattering noise.

Once the arms found... something (Akane could not fathom at all what was going on), they began to move very quickly, almost to the point of becoming a blur, picking at the tissue. The whirring sound.

_whir_

_splutch_

_whir_

_splutch_

Akane started shaking her head then, the tentacle from the other room trying very hard to emulate the mass of internal organs and tissues, twitching periodically.

_whir_

Akane watched a pair of arms pull out a long section of an intestine and drop it back to the table.

_splutch_

They moved speedily, touching it, picking at it, weaving back and forth over it, but Akane had no idea what they were actually doing.

_whir_

And again. That was when Akane had to leave. She had seen enough of Tofu's secrets, and she didn't care to see more. She had to get back to Kuno and leave this hellish place.

"If that is what you want..."

"It is, 'Waki. Funding is hard to come by for projects like these. I seem to remember you being very enthusiastic about the Lazarus Project before. What's happened to you?" Tofu asked, currently sitting behind his desk.

Akane entered the room then, her entire body a greyish, and she had a stunned look on her face. "Kuno-sempai... What was that down there?"

"I've given you your desired money. If you have nothing else you wish of me..."

Tofu waved his hand at him. "No, 'Waki. You've been quite helpful. Though I think I will need to see you next month for one of our usual sessions."

"I truly despise you," Tatewaki said in a moment of lost control.

"That's lovely to hear," Tofu said, turning his attention to some papers on his desk. "You can leave now, 'Waki. That's a hint."

Scowling at Tofu, Tatewaki turned and left the office with Akane close behind him.

"I've got my eye on you, 'Waki," Tofu said quietly when the door shut.

"Kuno-sempai, what was that down there? What is he doing with my sister?" Akane asked franticly.

He could only shake his head as two men flanked him. He started to walk back to the elevator, but one of them put his hand in his path.

"Wait," was the only thing he said.

Tatewaki sighed and waited. No, he would never have the simple peace that he desired. Gosunkugi and Ono would not allow it. And now that Akane was with him, he wanted nothing more than his privacy so he could speak with her.

Kyoofu walked briskly down the hall toward him, smiling slightly. He did so enjoy chatting with that lovely young lady. "That was quick, Kuno-sensei. I thought you'd be in there longer."

"How fortunate that I was not," he responded flatly.

"Yes, well, a minor inconvenience, but I'm sure Director Ono had his reasons. Either way, it's time to take you back and settle you in. Won't you like that, Kuno-sensei?"

"I think that I..." he started to say.

"Kuno-sempai, don't," Akane warned.

Clenching down on what he truly wanted to say, Tatewaki said, "I would like that very much."

"Kuno-sensei, you don't sound well. You're not experiencing any side-effects, are you?" Kyoofu asked, looking at him closely. Prized possession indeed; Gosunkugi looked at him like he was some farm animal before a show.

"I feel perfectly fine."

"Excellent. You know I don't like having to do that to you, but you get so unreasonable at times. I'm just glad to see you're feeling better, Kuno-sensei."

"I bet you are," Tatewaki and Akane said simultaneously.

Kyoofu raised an eyebrow at the utterance, but said nothing more. The elevator doors opened silently, and Tatewaki stepped out into the empty penthouse. Things had never seemed clearer to him. Ever since Akane had appeared to him, he had really been able to see and\ comprehend, truly, what was going on.

When she hadn't been there, it had been easy enough to just let everything go. He simply hadn't cared, but Akane had made him care. If she could be nice enough to treat him as a person and not a pet, then so should the rest of them.

Yes, he would readily go along with Akane's plan now. It was time to show them that he had the capacity to think, to plan, to scheme.

To kill.

After all, he had done it before.

--

"I want you to keep a closer eye on him. He's up to something, and I don't like it."

"Please now, Director. If you were around him as much as I am, you'd see that he's harmless. Really, I think you're over-reacting. Why don't you just let me take care of this? There's no need to work yourself up over it."

Tofu's voice held the slightest hint of anger. "Thank you, Kyoofu. Your advice is noted and rejected. If you won't do it, I will."

Kyoofu sighed dramatically. He was quite pleased that there was no video as he rolled his eyes. "Of course, Director," he said agreeably. "If that's what you think needs to be done..." He emphasized 'think' very slightly.

Tofu humphed and disconnected.

Kyoofu returned to what he had been doing before Tofu had contacted him. What the hell did Ono know anyway? He had his little projects, and he also had Kyoofu's far more important projects, but what did he know about Kuno Tatewaki?

Not nearly as much as he did. Tofu didn't have to deal with him every day. Didn't have to listen to his ranting, didn't have to deal with his resistance, didn't have to deal with all the stupid little things the Blue Thunder demanded.

So what the hell did Ono Tofu know? Not a whole lot in Kyoofu's book.

--

"Kuno-sempai, I want an answer! What was that?" Akane yelled.

"I told you before. It is your sister. It is Ono's process of revenge," Tatewaki answered, sitting down on the single piece of furniture on the penthouse.

"But... but, she was in pieces!"

"Yes. The bomb was quite devastating. It was the best Ono could do with her. I have no doubt that he will succeed though; his vengeance will drive him onward."

Akane closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "What were they doing? I saw..."

"The tissue rebuilding?"

Akane shrugged, unable to get that scene out of her mind, the mechanical arms, the...

"That is how tissue is rebuilt. It is a very long process, taking years, as tissue, skin, organs, muscle, is reconstructed from a genetic pattern. It is quite gruesome," Tatewaki answered simply. Sure, the body parts in tanks were bad, but the pile of crap on the table with those little needles picking at it... That was far worse.

"I wish I could say I was still outraged at it. I was the first time I saw it, but it's become... common. At least for Ono it is. Nothing he does surprises me." It was then that Tatewaki really looked at Akane. "Did you get your answers? Did you find out what you wanted to know?"

Akane nodded. "I found all I needed." And whatever she had thought previously of doing to Tofu was far too good to him.

The plan started to form in Akane's mind in bits and pieces. She would come up with ideas, then ways to accomplish those ideas, then ways to avoid quick discovery. All in all, she had come up with a\ very elaborate plan involving falsified identities, smuggling in controlled technologies, and leaking information to the press all to screw Tofu over once and for all.

She wasn't very happy about the controlled technologies, but Kuno had insisted on it when he had heard her initial plan. She didn't want this to be a repeat of things that had happened in the past, but it seemed like it couldn't be avoided.

"The Lazarus Project. That's what he calls it."

Akane nodded. "I don't know how people will take that. I mean, don't people want to be saved from dying?" she asked. True, she didn't like seeing her sister in such a state, but that didn't mean other people wouldn't like the chance.

"Akane, you saw her. Would you want to exist like that. She's been that way ever since the explosion, over 6 years ago," Tatewaki said. Ever since Akane had told him of the plan, he had grown quite confident, more so than he had been before. But, to go through with the plan, he would have to be.

"I suppose you're right." She hadn't told him that she had seen Nabiki's soul, caught in some sort of limbo, purgatory. "I still don't think it will be enough. And I don't think it will be enough to make anyone angry... except me."

Tatewaki nodded. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Akane's eyes snapped opened and the frown on her face deepened.

"Yeah, well, I guess it's time I got caught up on things, isn't it? It's time I saw just what everyone I knew has turned into, isn't it? It's about time I did something about it."

"Akane, you shouldn't..."

"You shut up! This is partly your fault, you know! You let him do that! You gave him money to do it!" Akane yelled, her aura turning red ever so slowly.

Tatewaki lowered his eyes and looked at the floor at Akane's feet.

"I know."

Akane growled at him, at his obsequiousness, and left the penthouse. She had plans to set in motion and yelling at him wasn't going to accomplish anything.

She went first to the executive offices. There were several steps, several other people that would be unknowingly involved, and that was what she needed to do first.

She went into an office at random to find the occupant already working on his terminal. That wasn't any good, so she went to the next office. The executive was just siting down at his terminal, preparing to log in. Perfect.

Akane stood right by him as he typed in his username, then watched carefully as he typed in his password. Keeping careful mental note of that, she went off to observe Kyoofu's administrative assistant. Akane doubted anyone would even question a request from Gosunkugi Kyoofu, no matter how strange it might sound. So she waited and watched the woman do all of Gosunkugi's busy work. The thing she was most interested in were the little memos and requests the assistant made on behalf of Gosunkugi. That was what she needed to do. The next morning, she would have to wait for the secretary to log in to get her username and password too.

A small, satisfied smile on her face, Akane headed back up to the penthouse.

--

Night settled on the city. Akane paced the penthouse, unable to settle down. The things she was planning to do were... illegal, but that was the least of her worries. What she was truly concerned about was what would happen to her. In life, if you murder, you are punished. In death, if you murder... what happens?

She wandered around aimlessly, almost doing laps, lost in thought.

Glancing quickly at Kuno, who was asleep sitting up against the couch, however he managed that, Akane had to wonder if he'd be able to do it. Would he be able to help her get back at Tofu? He was her only option so he would have to.

Akane continued her pacing through most of the night. Sometimes she plotted, sometimes she pondered, sometimes she simply paced, but she didn't stop moving.

During one of her trips around the penthouse, she absently passed through Kuno and stopped when he heard his moan. When she looked back at him, it was obvious he was still asleep and dreaming. Whatever he had felt of her presence had affected him.

"I'm sorry, Akane," he mumbled, then was silent.

Akane sighed and continued her pacing.

Tatewaki woke up the next morning after having the strangest dream. He had been in Ono's office, with Gosunkugi, and he was caught. His body wouldn't move, and the two simply stood there and stared at him, making silent accusations. Mysteriously, Akane had appeared, and she had Nabiki with her, both of them looking as they did when they were teenagers, and the entire room was consumed in flames. Gosunkugi and Ono both melted, their faces masks of terror and anguish, while Akane and Nabiki watched. Then they had looked at him, and they were accusing him as well.

He had apologized over and over again. 'I'm sorry, Akane. I'm sorry, Nabiki.' And then the dream simply faded away.

Clearing his head of the cobwebs of sleep, Tatewaki noticed that Akane was gone. He knew she would be back, but her plans made him very nervous. What if they were discovered? What if someone else could see her and trouble started? What if Ono surprised him with those truth drugs again?

That simply meant things had to be hurried along. The sooner things were in motion, the more comfortable he'd feel. And the more confident he'd feel about the success of the plan.

He went to the compact washroom, surprisingly small for where it was located, and splashed some cold water in his face from the faucet. He avoided looking in the mirror, knowing fully that he looked like hell.

The bath had already filled itself automatically for him, the water the designated temperature. It was about the only moment of privacy he felt he got, and even then he wasn't sure. Tatewaki removed the heavy robes that he had inadvertently fallen asleep in, and tossed them away. Someone would collect them eventually.

He washed himself quickly with cold water and a sweet-smelling soap that probably had some other drug in it that assimilated itself through the skin to keep him docile, then rinsed. His immersion in the slightly hot water was about the only relaxation he got in the day, so he relished it.

For the most part, he had nothing to do the entire day, so his baths tended to last for more than an hour as he attempted to put everything behind him. This day, it did not work.

"Kuno-sem..." Akane quickly turned and covered her eyes when she saw that she had wandered into the bath where Kuno was currently in the water.

"Kuno-sempai," she continued again, "I got it. We can get started as soon as you're ready to."

"Very well," he replied half-heartedly from the bath.

Akane heard the water as Kuno rose from it, and quickly said, "I'll just wait in the other room for you." She left quickly, her aura tinged pink.

Tatewaki exited the bath a few moments later, a towel wrapped around his waist, with him drying his hair. "You got their names and passwords?" he asked.

Akane looked at him, then looked away again. "Yeah," she said hesitantly.

Tatewaki looked at her confusedly for a moment, then realized what was wrong. "Forgive me. I'm not used to having to worry about maintaining my modesty for guests."

Akane nodded curtly, keeping her eyes averted.

Tatewaki opened a small closet and pulled out a robe that faded from black at the bottom to royal blue at the top. He dropped the towel and slipped the robe on, tying it securely in the front. "What is the first thing we do?" he asked, turning back around.

Akane peeked at him, then seeing he was covered, nodded and relaxed. "OK, first..."

--

A series of official looking papers began to settle into the basket there for the express purpose of catching them. When no more fell into the basket, the inventory control officer pulled out the stack and leafed through them.

Technically, the only thing he needed to see was the 'From' address to stamp it urgent, but he checked them over anyway. His eyes widened as he saw the order.

Chief Executor Gosunkugi was really pulling out all the stops.

The next day, a package, no larger than a loaf of bread, was delivered to the Kuno Foundation building. As it was marked as one of Gosunkugi's urgent packages to be delivered to the penthouse without delay, it was.

"Now, we have to start leaking information." Akane glanced over at what Tatewaki was doing. "You sure you know what you're doing with that?"

Tatewaki put the two wires underneath the clips and made sure they were secure. "Yes. It's quite simple." He slid one thin, metal rod into the end of the small cylinder of what appeared to be gray putty.

Then he slid another rod into the next cylinder, and the next, and the next. When he was done, he had eight cylinders all wired together.

He plugged the panel the wires were attached to into the unassuming box, and a light on it came up green. Tatewaki eyed the pulsating red button at the end of a long wire, which was in turn, attached to the box.

"It is ready," he said quietly, not getting his hand anywhere near that button.

Akane hadn't even noticed she was holding her remembered breath. "Good," she said quietly. "Put that away now so we can work on the rest."

Tatewaki removed the panel, causing the green light to go out, and stowed the entire thing in a box, which he placed in the closet until which time he really needed it. "How long until we are discovered?"

"Three or four days," she answered. She wouldn't be able to cover

it all up. They would discover what was going on fairly quickly, and they had to be ready. No, not true. Akane merely had to wait. It was Kuno that would have to be ready to act. He would have to be brave enough to go through with it.

--

Being a reporter wasn't all that great anymore. Anything worth reporting was usually either business of Onocorp or the KF, and that meant it was off-limits. That wasn't entirely true, because anyone was free to report anything they wanted. It was just that the KF and Onocorp were good, very good, at covering up anything that would be worth reporting.

That is, until one reporter got a mysterious e-mail. Then a reporter across town got it. And another, and another, until the journalistic community was in a frenzy. Someone had mailed them all the dirt on the Kuno Foundation and Onocorp.

True, it wasn't anything that would end the world, but it was enough so that it was the special report that interrupted all television and radio.

--

"What the HELL is this?" Kyoofu yelled.

The others looked uncomfortable, not knowing what to say.

"I want to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. NOW!"

And the next day, something else was mailed out, a little more... incriminating than the first.

As Akane thought, it didn't take Gosunkugi's shocktroops to long to figure out what was going on. She had been listening in on Gosunkugi when Tofu had called, and had greatly enjoyed the heated exchange of words between the two, the obvious frustration on Gosunkugi's face.

"I know you said that. I HAVE been watching him. Do you REALLY think he could do that? The man is a moron. He's so doped up..."

Akane could hear Tofu's voice through the phone from the other side of the room. "You are a fool! I warned you about him and you ignored me!"

"Yes, well if your worthless drugs had been any help at all..."

"Don't test me, Gosunkugi. I can flush your projects down the toilet at any moment."

Kyoofu took in a sudden breath, the snarl frozen on his face. Then his terminal beeped, alerting him of new mail. It was from Kuno Tatewaki.

"Hang on a minute, Ono. We have a development," Kyoofu said, sitting down to read the e-mail.

"You got one too? That conniving..."

The message was short and to the point; it had just been a stroke of luck that the two had been arguing on the phone when it arrived.

'Again? I grow weary of these games. I think a meeting would be beneficial. Tonight, after hours. Kuno Tatewaki'

Kyoofu deleted the message and spoke into the phone. "I WILL handle this one." He hung up.

--

The regular employees went home and the building was shut down for the most part. There were some security personnel on the first floor, some stray technicians on the third floor, Tatewaki waiting nervously in the penthouse, and... others whose presence was unknown by everyone else.

With one elevator servicing the penthouse, it wasn't particularly difficult to monitor who was planning on visiting. So Akane waited by the elevator to see when Gosunkugi and Tofu arrive. She did not see what she expected to.

Instead of the two men, there was a group of men, dressed all in black, looking very... suspicious. The weapons each of them had under their suit jackets did not boost Akane's confidence.

She knew what this meant. Instead of dealing with the trouble, they were simply going to remove it permanently. Panicking, Akane knew she had to get up to the penthouse and warn Kuno before the men got there.

But they were already filing into the elevator and getting there with them wouldn't help. She needed to do something quick. Concentrating for a moment, she could think of only one stall technique that would hold them off long enough.

She actually managed to get her hand corporeal enough to hit every single floor button on the panel, then as the car stopped at the next floor, much to the men's consternation, she rushed off to the stairs. Akane came into the penthouse looking panicked. "It's not them, Kuno-sempai. They didn't come!"

"Who then..."

"They're here to kill you!"

The look on Tatewaki's face darkened, his eyebrows drawing very close together. "So. He's finally called out the assassins. He shall find I am not so willing a victim."

"You have to leave! Get out of here before they..."

"No, Akane. No matter who comes into this room, it ends here. If I run, they will only hunt me down and find me, taking care next time that I have no freedom, if they bother to keep me alive at all. After all, is that not what you would do with your most prized possession?" Tatewaki looked at the elevator door and shook his head. "I refuse to take part in their schemes and games any longer. Here it ends, for me."

"No! You have to..."

"I'm sorry. It's futile. I can't put into words how I've appreciated, enjoyed your presence. I'm sorry things have to end this way, but I've finally realized the truth."

He organized himself amongst the explosives. There would be no repeat of Nabiki here; there were enough explosives sitting around him, behind the couch, to destroy the Tendo home five times over with explosions to spare.

"Here is Ono's next payment..." Tatewaki said quietly as Akane watched him in horror. "I don't think he shall appreciate it, but I don't think he'll mind one more death on his hands either."

He held out one slightly shaking hand to her. Akane did it then, drawing on every emotion she could, solidifying her form for the last moments. She slipped her hand into his and waited.

"I have always loved you," he said, his head bowed and eyes closed.

Akane said the only thing she could. "I'm sorry."

The elevator chimed behind them.

The first thing the group of well-dressed men saw when they emerged from the elevator, weapons drawn, was a girl standing by the couch in the middle of the floor, glowing a gentle red.

Stunned for only moments, they ran over to the couch, ignoring the girl completely, and pointed their weapons at whatever was behind it. Their eyes all opened wide simultaneously when they saw what was waiting, and that was when Tatewaki pushed the button.

Heat and light and pain exploded outward from where Tatewaki was sitting, too fast to even consider how awful it was.

Right away, Tatewaki's hand was ripped away from Akane's.

Actually, it was like his hand was ripped away from the rest of his body as he was tossed about in the explosions. Ripped apart, burned, crushed, destroyed, he was assured of not being subjected to Tofu's tortures.

It also meant he was dead, but it was a small price to pay for freedom once again. It was a small price to pay for that sense of inner peace again.

But in the end, it wasn't anything special, which surprised him.

So much for Heaven and angels and all that garbage. But there was one angel, and she looked at him with sadness and compassion. That one look, the near admiration he saw in her, that sealed it. He couldn't leave; she wouldn't let him.

He clung to his existence desperately, though there was nothing there. His body was dead and he had no solid anchor, no place to go. Yet, he continued to hold on, refusing to leave when everything had been left undone. Undone by him in the first place. Undone.

Destroyed.

With his physical presence destroyed, he had one last refuge. It was unfortunate that Akane hadn't seen him, didn't know, but maybe it was for the better as well. She would not change her opinion of him, that much was obvious.

She could not change her heart, but she had given him something of what he had desired for so long.

Akane could almost feel the heat burn her skin as it engulfed the room. It was an ugly thing to see, even worse to know that she had helped prepare it. Even worse to know this was how Kasumi had been fatally injured, and Nabiki.

She heard the dying screams of the other men, the assassins that had been sent to take care of Kuno, and she knew they would heading to a place far worse than anything Onocorp could dream up. Dream...

Nightmare.

And as the emergency systems came on to extinguish the fire, she left. Left to pursue things more, no, not more. To pursue things less painful. To sit and do nothing as the world flowed past her, to do things only ghosts could do. And to wonder why things weren't as simple as 'I'm sorry.'

And nothing was different, except that now, the Almighty Blue Thunder was dead. Dead along with all the others. He was dead, and he was happy because the world had held only misery and duty and a multitude of other things that had all added up to one thing: pain.

"Akane... I love you."

--

'Sometimes I believe that this less than material life is our truer life, and that our vain presence on the terraqueous globe is itself the secondary or merely virtual phenomenon.'

- 'Beyond the Wall of Sleep' by H.P. Lovecraft

--

**Epilogue - 2096**

Tendo Perdita sat up in her bed suddenly. Her laboured breathing was very loud in the confines of her small room, and the abnormal rate of her heart was sending her systems into full alert. She inhaled deeply, trying to get herself under control while she underwent a full diagnostic.

Dreams. She wasn't really supposed to have them, but she had had one. Wouldn't Onocorp love to hear that. Well, she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing.

And when her diagnostic came back green, she couldn't even really be sure she had even HAD a dream. There had just been a weird sensation in her sleep, and she had found herself sitting up, the word dying on her lips.

Shuddering, she laid back down and tried to return to sleep. It wouldn't do to waste her personal time on some silly internal glitch... But, had it been a glitch? There was such a feeling of loss and sadness and yearning associated with the word she had spoken, how could it be simply a glitch?

No, for her own benefit, it had been a glitch and nothing more.

But as she fell back asleep, she hoped that glitch would not occur again; it had been quite... emotional. She hoped she wouldn't have to hear that word again, not in that way, not haunting her sleep.

"Akane."

**Fade to Black**


	10. Gosunkugi: Generations

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G O S U N K U G I : Generations

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by RpM

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R2096 characters and situations used with permission. Takahashi's aren't.

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G O S U N K U G I H I K A R U

The Man, The Myth, The Legend

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A young girl, nine years old in age, with large, observative lilac

eyes and long hair (a shock of white running down the middle of her

otherwise dark brown locks) wandered through a building, accompanied by a

young man. The both of them had a distinct family resemblance.

"Well, Ske-chan, what do you want to see today?"

"Um..."

"A story perhaps?"

"Mm-hm!"

"Let's see..." The two entered a room of sorts. Actually, a

library, lined with books from wall to wall, and with several of them

chained to tables. The two went to one of these books and flipped through

the dimly glowing pages. "Your great grandfather... he was... hm... G181

I think."

"What's'at mean?" the girl asked.

"Hm? Oh, he was our one hundred and eighty-first member."

"Wooooow. What'm I?"

"You? Ah, you don't have a number yet."

"Awwwww. Why not?"

"You have to pass a few tests first, and it'll be a few more years

until you can even try that."

"Oh. Okay."

"Now... your great grandfather... hm... not much happened to him,"

he said with amusement. "Anything in particular you wish to see?"

"How him'n great granma met."

"Heheh. Already a romantic, hmm Ske-chan? Ah. Let's see... here

we go."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

PART I:

One Enchanted Morning

or

The Boy, The Mallet, and the Pig

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

She'd been wandering across Japan for some time now, looking for

that one special boy, the perfect boy, the one that could really knock out

her piggy and sweep her off her feet. So far, however, her search was

useless. There was nobody that came even close to doing it just right.

She sighed, weary of all the travelling she had to do, and checked the map

for Nerima. She'd heard great things about that place... lots of mighty

warriors and such.

It was a good plan, theoretically. Of course, it wouldn't work at

all, but when asked about it many years later, she'd say she had no

regrets.

In retrospect, it wasn't a good plan.

In fact, it was a stupid plan.

And considering whose plan it was, that's saying a lot.

Gosunkugi Hikaru, freshman, magician, and loner had a dream. He

dreamed that one day the queen of the school, the one every boy dreamed

of, Akane Tendo, would be his. It was a really long shot. It was an even

longer shot when her 'fiancee', the fool Ranma Saotome, showed up. Since

then, Gosunkugi's already bad luck had sunken to new depths.

On this particular day, his dark mood was considerably darker. It

was the end of yet another plot to get rid of Saotome, and it backfired

tremendously. The details were... he just didn't want to think about the

details. Nobody would believe him afterwards when he said that the sheep

was a necessary part of the spell... his reputation was ruined.

Of course, there was one person to blame for that.

Saotome.

The one who WAS engaged to Akane Tendo.

Saotome.

The one that got the attention of all the girls.

Saotome.

The one that was a total jerk to Akane, an ill-mannered conceited

jerk, no better than an animal.

He was an animal. It was a small leap of logic, but there it was.

Ranma was no better than a base animal, a gluttonous violent beast.

With that idea in mind, he woke up early, incredibly early,

earlier than the sun rose, and spent several hours in the field of

Furinkan High, digging a deep hole, covered it with tarp, and left

miscellaneous foods that Saotome was known to like as bait.

Looking back, Gosunkugi admitted it was an incredibly stupid idea,

even for his standards.

After setting his trap, Gosunkugi withdrew to the shadows and

waited. He remained there, eyes in the dark, and waited for Saotome to

come. Summoning up patience the likes of which he had never displayed

before, he waited for hours on end. Unmoving, unnoticeable in the shadows

of the trees nearby, he waited.

And then he fell asleep.

A FEW HOURS LATER

"Zzzzzzzzzzz..."

Gosunkugi the Patient snored peacefully, his head bent back at an

awkward angle, a little drool running down the side of his mouth. He was

about to fall over backwards when a violent crashing noise woke him from

his slumber.

He fell over anywise.

Stumbling quickly back to his feet, Gosunkugi raced to his trap,

feeling victory surge through his veins. The sounds of struggle emerged

from the pit, but something sounded wrong. His mind, though, was on a

high and thus decided to edit that thought out until further confirmation

of facts.

Racing to the edge of the pit, Gosunkugi tapped into a berzerker

strength that he would rarely ever tap into again, and actually managed

to lift a gigantic mallet up. With said weapon held high, he declared,

"NOW I'VE GOT YOU, SAOTO...ehh..."

What happened next would best be described in slow motion. A

very large pair of eyes looked up from the pit, it's gaze burning

through as if through Gosunkugi's very soul. A bestial grunt followed.

What the hell was that? A monster from the woods? A wayward spirit? A

demon from hell? With the adrenaline rush racing out of him and fear

making him more limp than a dead fish, he let gravity take over, and the

mallet drove down hard towards the monster in the pit.

THUMP

"BWEEEEeeeee..."

Bwee?

Curiosity overcame fear, and he had a good look at what it was

he'd just malleted. It was, apparently, a pig. An incredibly large one,

and by the sounds it made, probably very irritated one too. He scratched

his head curiously and let go of the mallet, whose handle promptly fell

down and smacked him in the foot. Cursing mightily, Gosunkugi hopped

around, wobbled a bit, then fell into the pit himself.

That, he felt, was typical. Just had to happen. It wouldn't be a

normal day for Gosunkugi Hikaru if something stupid of this magnitude

didn't happen to him. In a way, it was comforting, in the way that really

really old shoes are: they might stink, they might look ugly, but they fit

perfectly.

It was at about this point, with Gosunkugi lying back atop a great

(and unconscious) beast, with his foot throbbing and his back aching a bit

from the fall that he heard the voice.

"Katsunishiki! Katsunishiki, where are you!"

It was a cute voice, incredibly cute. Soon it was accompanied by

a cute face, as a girl with shoulder-length black hair and a straw hat

peered down, an expression of tender concern on her face. Gosunkugi was

dazzled immediately.

"Um... h-hello," he managed to stammer out.

She, on the other hand, stared at him in surprise. Aside from

said surprise, the expression was totally unreadable. Gosunkugi had a

feeling that he'd done a Bad Thing again. Logic churned in his head, and

he finally stammered out, "Umm... t-this isn't your pig, is it?"

She nodded slowly, her expression of surprise gone, and one of

curiosity replacing it. The look was aimed at him, and he couldn't help

but blush at that.

"I... ah... didn't mean to hurt it, r-really," he stammered,

waving his arms around frantically.

She giggled at his shyness and extended a hand to help him out of

his pit. "Hi, I'm Unryuu Akari," she said, smiling. "That's Katsunishiki

down there," she added, pointing to the prone pig in the pit. To her

surprise, she easily pulled him out. He was so light, must be because he

didn't eat enough, she thought. She'd have to fix that.

"I'm Gosunkugi Hikaru," he said, laughing nervously and scratching

the back of his head. He wasn't used to any girl talking to him as much

as this girl was, and he felt his heart race frantically with exhilaration

and hope. It was a major achievement, actually, for him to keep this

conversation going as long as it had.

"Nice to meet you," she said, giving his hand a squeeze.

Gosunkugi's face snapped into a goofy sort of grin, and his eyes glazed

over. Akari smiled and giggled. This... Gosunkugi. What a silly man,

although cute, and nice. Yes, he'd make a good husband.

The gigantic pig regained consciousness soon after, casually

plowing his way out of the pit and trotted over to Akari and Gosunkugi.

It couldn't help but notice the way the two were blushing madly and

smiling, and rolled its eyes up, snorting.

The relationship blossomed surprisingly fast, since both of them

were lonely, shy, and when given the chance, sweet. Gosunkugi still had

lingering feelings for Akane, but the dedication that Akari showed finally

cleared his heart of feelings for anyone else. Life for these two seemed

to be charmed, while everyone else in Nerima was either murdered, committed

suicide, blown up, committed to asylums, or generally ruined.

Looking back, Gosunkugi would agree that yes, it was a charmed

life. The golden days of his life, really.

And then he finished high school, which is the point where

everything changed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

PART II:

Happily Forever After...

or

Do You Believe In Magic?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Immediately after Gosunkugi graduated from High School, he went

back with Akari to the Unryuu Sumo Pig Farm where he was expected to help

train with the pigs.

Was he worried?

Definitely.

Their relationship through high school was great, almost

care-free. The care-free part ended the moment Akari told him how he was

supposed to help with the 'chores' at the Unryuu place (in other words,

wrestle with gigantic pigs every day) and that particular thought made his

veins run cold with fear. There was only one solution, in his view, to

make it through those critical days: magic. He knew he was almost a joke

of a magician, but he had come so close before, and this time it wasn't

just some petty little revenge at stake, it was his future.

He wasn't going to lose Akari, that much he was sure of.

Ever since that day, then, he'd researched, practised, trained,

even gone to the old ghoul that ran the Nekohanten once or twice, and

tried to find a way to somehow overcome the Challenge of the Pigs.

The fateful day had arrived. Gosunkugi stood nervously in the

centre of a fenced-in field, with various relatives of Akari watching and

cheering (and making bets). He muttered a quick prayer to whatever god

may listen, and checked to make sure all was ready. He heard Akari's

cheers from the side, and steeled himself for the battle that was to come.

Meanwhile, at the far end of the field, a titanic pig made it's

way into the field. This one, while not as big as Akari's pet, was

equally as vicious, if not more so. This one was 'Goro', second best pig

of the Unryuu stock. As it spotted Gosunkugi, it immediately charged at

its prey.

Gosunkugi's eyes wend wide with shock as he saw the titanic beast

charge towards him. How can anything that big move so fast? he

wondered. Snap out of it! It's time! He reached into his jacket and

pulled out an impossibly huge mallet. Even Goro hesitated at the sight of

it. Waving the mallet up high, Gosunkugi declared, "for my future... for

Akari's future... FOR OUR HAPPINESS!!! MIGHTY MALLET MUJAKI

STRIIIIIKE!!!"

Writer's Note: Mujaki Japanese demon which brings nightmares/dreams

to people... hence, the 'Dream-maker' Mallet.

The pig snorted in anger and charged forward. The Mighty Mallet

Mujaki swung down. And in the end, it was rather indescribable. If

anyone asked any of the Unryuu that attended in that day, and the days

after, they would begin to describe the result with much repeating of

words and various hand gestures, but in the end they would say, "No, you

just had to be there."

It was a draw.

And for the next painful month, it was a draw.

Day after day after seemingly improbable day, a draw.

In ways totally unexpected but totally legal under the laws of

Sumo Pig Wrestling, it was a draw. Again and again and again...

The Unryuu family didn't know what to make of the situation.

Clearly, the boy was unworthy to help out in the family business, he'd be

slaughtered out there if not for that mystic mallet, but he was good at

heart and treated Akari well. A decision had to be made.

She took the decision far better than he thought she would,

especially considering that her whole life centred around pigs.

Gosunkugi sighed, sitting by Akari's closed bedroom door. The moment they

told him, he felt his heart sink, but when they went to tell Akari, he

insisted on doing it himself. It seemed the best thing to do at the time.

He was afraid she'd do something along the lines of malleting him,

punching him, or flat-out rejecting him. That was a major fear he had his

entire life, really. Instead, she turned pale, shrieked, ran back to her

room, locked the door, and started sobbing for about six hours.

The family didn't feel too good about it. They told Gosunkugi

that it wasn't anything personal, and in fact they were welcome to stay if

they wished... he just wasn't allowed to train the pigs. This was mixed

news to him and Akari. The fact that the family didn't oppose their being

together was great, but at the part about training pigs, Gosunkugi would

have preferred not to even try again, while Akari thought it was quite

unfair that her boyfriend was banned from the family business.

After that gruelling summer was over, Gosunkugi went off to

college, while Akari remained behind with her family. Everyone agreed

when Gosunkugi declared that he'd find a way to make a living without

leeching off of the Unryuu family fortune. It would otherwise look quite

dishonourable for all parties concerned. As for WHAT he would do with his

life, he knew that there wasn't much money out there for occultists, even

though he had indeed mastered REAL (although relatively minor) magic.

Well... he always did photograph Akane really well.

So, photography it was, and after several years of hard study and

internships, Gosunkugi Hikaru became a photographer for the Tokyo Herald.

By the time he'd reached the age of 24, he managed to save enough to get

an apartment for him and Akari, one that allowed pets (of course).

He quickly became famous in his field for capturing 'haunting' and

'eerie' pictures, especially when the subject was a disaster area, a

murder scene, a funeral, or any other generally sad event. It had earned

him several awards and some respect.

Three years after they had started living together, Gosunkugi

finally proposed, and they had a lovely fall wedding. Of course,

Gosunkugi declined to be behind the camera for ANY pictures of this event,

mainly because of his eerie 'talent' with the camera... except one.

That one particular picture was of Akari and Katsunishiki, her

feeding the pig some of the wedding cake. What puzzled him later about

that picture was that he appeared to be in it. But that was impossible,

since he was the one taking the picture, right? The 'him' in the photo

was far into the background, and seemed startled that he was captured on

film. Fearing it was a bad omen, he never pointed this out to his wife.

Between them, they had a son, Kyoofu, who seemed almost as sullen

as Gosunkugi had when he was a child, although with Akari's influence he

grew up to be not nearly as shy. The child grew up very observative,

highly intelligent, and to his father's surprise, a sharp aptitude towards

science, as opposed to magic.

Despite his legitimate career in photography, Gosunkugi's research

into the field of magic never stopped. He'd steadily grown in his

ability, accessing the much-disputed hammer-space field at will now, and

even managed to talk to his ancestors. As it turned out, they were rather

proud of how he was doing, and it did his ego good to hear that.

After a solid ten years in the photojournalism business, he took

some time off for 'personal reflection' as he called it. In fact, it was

the offer by a band of occultists for him to join them. Their objective

was a monastery in the more rural parts of Japan, where a haunting of

legend had returned to plague the monks once more. These occultists had

set out with two objectives: 1) exorcise the spirit and 2) get actual

proof of the existence of the spiritual world (of which Gosunkugi and his

photographic skills were key).

Looking back, Gosunkugi would say that if he had to do it all over

again, this particular part he would be more than happy to leave behind.

The exorcism was a disaster, with several of the members of the

team reduced to soulless husks, several monks struck down, and the monastery

itself declared an unholy landmark. In the occult circles Gosunkugi's

name was forever linked with tragedy. Gosunkugi would refuse to discuss

any details of that tragic event, even to his own family, and left it

buried in the past.

The whole event had also made a great impression on another person

that day... a young monk who was shattered in mind, and was once known as

the Blue Thunder of Furinkan High. And that would have dire consequences

many years later...

Gosunkugi vowed that such a tragedy would never happen again, and

continued to research into the occult, while returning to the

photo-journalistic world (which welcomed him back with open arms). Akari

had supported him as she felt any good wife should do, although she didn't

just stay at home all day. She spent a considerable part of her time back

at the ranch, managing the business of the Sumo Pigs, and she did it well.

Things were going well again for the happy couple, but sins from

the past would come back to haunt him.

The year was 2014, and a new vision was slowly creeping across

Japan, a vision that chilled Gosunkugi to the bone. The vision was one of

monk-turned-politician Kunou Tatewaki, who stood on the platform of Moral

Decency. He declared Japan a spiritually hollow society, one that lost

sight of righteousness and cleanliness. This was all seemingly well and

good, but with any light there is a shadow, and the ugly secret of Kunouu's

movement was that he'd formed 'strike forces of righteousness' to smite

that which he had found unholy, but would be chastised for if his actions

were done so in public. Thus, this shadowy group raided bars, strip

joints, burned down magazine and newspaper offices, trashed art galleries,

and defiled the place of worship of False Gods.

And he had not forgotten Gosunkugi Hikaru either.

Thus it came to pass one winter's day that Gosunkugi Hikaru

disappeared from the earth and was never seen again.

He was on his way home to celebrate Christmas with his wife and

their young son, when he was ambushed by a gang of men in robes and

quickly knocked out. Some hours later, he'd awakened in a place he'd

rather not have returned to.

The monastery. He was back in the monastery's stone walls and

drafty corridors, and tied up to a post.

"Gosunkugi Hikaru! You stand accused of a sin of the highest

order!" declared a familiar voice hidden underneath holy robes. "You have

practised magicks of an unholy nature, and have brought ruin to this once

holy place! Thy penalty is... THE PIT!"

"B-b-but WAIT!"

Off to the side, one of the monks muttered, "uh oh..."

The Main Monk stepped forward, glaring at Gosunkugi. "Cease thy

belligerent babbling, thou base black servant of the spirits below! Thou

shalt feel the folly of fickling with my forces of fortitude and fairness!

Thou wretched worm what wiggles it's way unto wayward wanderer's souls!

NEVER AGAIN, says I, KUNOU TATEWAKI, BLUE THUNDER OF GOD!!!"

And without further ado, they tossed him into a pit.

It was a rather nasty pit, apparently located beneath the

monastery, and quite huge too. He guessed that he fell about thirty feet

before hitting some sort of underground reservoir. When they slammed the

door from far above, he was left in total darkness, and for the first time

in many years, he felt no hope.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

PART III:

We, Gosunkugi.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

He'd spent an hour in the pit, and already he could tell it was

hopeless. Gosunkugi had managed to cast some light into the room, but

unfortunately the appearance of the place did not help his spirits at all.

The room was cavernous, with stalactites and stalagmites everywhere, and

with a large lake as it's main feature. The great body of water was

perfectly clear, all the way to the bottom, but somehow that made it even

more eerie.

Gosunkugi spent the next several hours searching through the cave,

but there was no way out. He thought things couldn't get worse.

Of course, he was wrong.

From far above, the trap door opened and he heard the booming

voice of Kunou Tatewaki, echoing down as if from the heavens.

"FOR THE CRIME OF CONSORTING WITH A CRIMINALLY SORCEROUS

SCOUNDREL, SPECIFICALLY THE ONE KNOWN AS GOSUNKUGI HIKARU, THOU HAST

EARNED THYSELF A PUNISHMENT PAINFUL FOR ONE EVEN AS PIOUS AS MYSELF TO

PERPETRATE, BUT IT MUST BE DONE! TO THE PIT WITH YOU!"

He heard a scream.

He saw a body fall from the cave ceiling high above.

Akari?

"Akari-chan!" He dove into the lake and splashed furiously (he

never did learn how to swim properly) until he reached her, and together

they made their way to dry land. Meanwhile, the voice of Kunou from above

echoed, "FEAR NOT FOR THY CHILD, FOR IN THE INNOCENCE OF YOUTH IS INDEED A

SACRED THING! HE SHALL BE LEFT TO BE RAISED BY THE FAMILY UNRYUU AND LEFT

UNHARMED, UNLESS THE BOY SHOWS TRAITS OF FOLLOWING IN HIS SCANDALOUS

FATHER'S FOOTSTEPS. SO PROMISES BLUE THUNDER! AND MAY YOU FIND

REPENTANCE IN YOUR HEARTS BEFORE THY SOUL LEAVES THIS EARTH!"

Gosunkugi raised his fist defiantly and prepared to yell when the

trapdoor above was promptly shut. So instead he sighed, which to be

honest, was the more natural thing to do.

Once they made it to dry land and shook off the daze of scrambling

about in cold water for a good thirty minutes, Akari collapsed in

Gosunkugi's arms and spent a lot of time there crying. She was glad he

was alive, but now they'd never see their son again. The possibility that

they might die together was small consolation for the almost certainty of

their demise by starvation. Gosunkugi's magic was not strong enough to

rescue him from that situation, and so it was there that Kunou Tatewaki and

his crusaders left them to perish.

And as far as they, and the rest of the world, were concerned,

Hikaru and Gosunkugi Akari vanished that day, and were assumed dead.

That, of course, is far from the truth.

It was two hours since Akari had arrived, and despair was settling

unto Gosunkugi's soul like a long lost friend. He comforted his wife as

best as he could, but knew of no escape from their fate.

Then he saw himself.

Actually, he saw himself several times over. Some of them young,

some of them old, about a dozen of them, but one thing was certain. They

were all him.

"Um... hi there," one of them said.

"GAH!" Gosunkugi was startled out of his wits. He held on to his

wife desperately and stumbled backwards. Akari, wondering what was

startling her husband so badly, turned around, and saw her husband.

Several of them, in fact. And she didn't take it any better than he had.

As a result, they had both ended up screaming in alarm and stumbling

backwards...

And into the lake.

Again.

"Well, that was very... how shall we say..." wondered one of them.

"Gosunkugi-ish?" wondered someone else.

"Quite so, quite so."

"Not taking this well, is he?" said another.

"Hey, he's one of us, how would you expect him to react?"

"Boys, you're not making this any easier on the man."

"Everybody, QUIET! Our new inductee seems to be drowning."

And so, this strange gaggle of Gosunkugis got together momentarily

to fish one of their own, and his wife, out of the lake and, using a

little magic, dried them.

And using some more magic, actually got them to stop panicking.

"Were we always like this?" asked one of the older ones.

"Well, yes."

"Oh... shame about that."

"Hikaru!" yelped Akari.

"What?" they all asked. This just made Akari shriek and bury her

face in her husband's shoulder further.

"Oh, she wasn't talking to us?"

"Why would she, you moron?"

"Be nice, 85."

"Shut up, 43."

"G-guys, to business?"

"Ah, of course."

"Gosunkugi Hikaru?" they all asked, looking at Gosunkugi. He

nodded his head nervously. One of them stepped forward, one of the more

elderly ones. "Gosunkugi Hikaru, we have come to offer you salvation."

"S-salvation?" he nervously asked.

The offer was simple. They'd allow Gosunkugi and his wife

salvation, a life in a better world. Gosunkugi blinked in surprise. This

deal sounded too good to be true, and there had to be a price. In cases

such as these, there always was a price. And so he asked.

The price was simple. They would disappear from this reality,

never to return. It was explained to them that the future of their world

would be hazardous, and for them to return would place them and their son

in certain danger. It was best for them, and their son, if they left.

The option for them was painful, but obvious. They agreed to the

conditions, and thus Hikaru and Gosunkugi Akari forever left this world.

"Woooooow," said Ske-chan, looking a little melancholy.

"Something wrong?"

"Great-grandfather'n great-gramma gone?"

"Gone? Oh... no." He scratched his chin in thought. "Well...

actually, they just lived somewhere else and they lived happily ever

after, really."

"Honest?" asked Ske-chan.

"Honest."

At this news her mood brightened considerably. "Good story!"

"Glad you enjoyed it, Ske-chan." The man patted her on the head

gently and she smiled brightly. "Now come on... your mother and father

might be missing you, ne?"

"Um... hai!" She nodded happily and put her hand his. As they

left the building, a middle-aged couple walked on by. They looked down at

her, and she at them, and they couldn't help but smile. The woman stroked

Skeride's hair, said hello, and walked on by as the little girl departed.

"So, that's our little Skeride-chan?" said the woman.

"Yes, Akari-chan, that's her. Kawaii, ne?"

"Very kawaii. I hope she will find more happiness than our other

children." She sighed sadly, embracing her husband. "Their lives have

been so tragic. I wish... I wish..."

"I know, Akari-chan... I know."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

EPILOGUE

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

L E G A C Y

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"... and from Hikaru and Akari was borne Kyoofu, who in his union

with Kurenai Fushigi gave light to Shizen and Sakuin. Shizen, who, in his

union with Hibiki Shintsuko begat Gosunkugi Skeride..."

Gosunkugi Skeride, age 14, stared in surprise at the page which

the book had accidentally fallen open to. That was her lineage, her

history. Temptation overtook her, and she looked to see what the future

had in store for her, but only saw blurred lines instead of defining

sentences. But of course, she thought, she wouldn't be allowed to see her

future, since it was yet to be defined. There were too many possibilities

yet. She put the book back, feeling no regret. After all, it was the

wrong book. She was after Gosunkugi#182... a prominent figure amongst the

Gosunkugis. She found it, but for some reason it had a seal upon it,

which would not unlock. She knew that she'd get no answer from the other

Gosunkugis... they'd been incredibly tight-lipped when it came to the

topic of the fate of her mentor.

Gosunkugi Skeride was an unusual case, in the history of the

Collective. Unknown to her, her great-grandparents had kept an eye on

their children, and saw in her a potential for magic of amazing

proportions. It caught not only his attention, but the attention of

several other members.

This one would have to be carefully groomed.

At a young age, she had immediately shown a spark of aptitude,

using magic as if it was intuitive. And thus, when her parents weren't

aware, she was carefully groomed by the best in several fields of magic,

the best, in fact, of the Gosunkugis. There was Gos#87, age 29, whose

speciality was the manipulation of the fields of probability through

magic, Gos#99, age 68, whose expertise was in the area of healing,

Gos#103, age 38, who was a master of elemental forces, Gos#132, age 23, a

master of illusion and mind manipulation, and Gos#182, age 19, master of

the magicks of the spiritual world.

They hoped that, by showing her so many possibilities, she would

find her own niche, or even master all the fields, an amazing feat to

attempt. But her preferences had swayed her eventually to Gos#182, the

Necromancer. It seemed that this one, the youngest of the 'master

sorcerers' could relate to young Skeride's life the most easily. From

what little was said amongst Gosunkugis, his young life was harsh as well,

although far worse than Skeride's. It was a world mixed with technology

and sorcery, and also at almost constant conflict amongst it's many

kingdoms. Nobody knows what part Gos#182 played in the wars there, but he

had sought sanctuary with the collective, and had turned his back on his

reality. It had something to do, he said, with the folly and arrogance of

Lords Kunou and Saotome.

Being the first non-Hikaru sorcerer amongst the Collective, and

the first child, she had received special attention from them all. They

had cast a spell on her, which allowed her to visit them at any time when

she willed it. They were her family, her aunts (in some realities,

Gosunkugi Hikaru was born female), uncles, grandparents, brothers, and

sisters. It was a family that had shown her sights which no other child

would ever see, the wonders of the world all hers to visit. Despite this,

however, she still remained shy when dealing with the 'regular' world. If

she was not in the company of The Gosunkugi, she felt her confidence slip

away and disappear.

By the age of 10, Skeride was adept at exorcising spirits, a

practice that her mentor smiled upon. "Spirits that remain on earth are,

by nature, evil," he once said to her. "If they were truly worthy of

mercy, they should have moved on to the next world already. Thus,

necromancy always deals with evil spirits. Remember that, Skeride!"

He turned to her and showed her a savage-looking scar on his arm. "No

matter how they may appear, they are tainted with evil. It is best if

they were put to their rest, else they may scar you, forever."

This lecture she took to heart.

She seemed not to notice how some amongst the collective were

rather concerned about Gos#182's influence on Skeride, or how Gos#182

sometimes wore a dark expression and his aura was tainted with a sort of

grey shade. They got along better than brother and sister, and she was

happy.

Then one day, he disappeared.

A search party was sent to look for him, and found him. Dead.

She had cried for weeks after his passing, and had vowed to avenge him

someday. None would tell her what caused his downfall, but she could see

on his corpse, amongst the savage bruises and wounds, the traces of a

possession. One of the spirit world had taken over his body, and

apparently it had caused his death.

And those chain of events lead her to the here and now, a year

after his demise, and searching for the elusive answer. Maybe, she

wondered, there would be an answer within the books covering the very

history of the Collective itself. Searching through the tangled

bookshelves, ignoring the orangutang (Gos#204, the Collective's librarian,

one of the few Gosunkugis that visited Jusenkyou) and pulled out the

rather thin book of Collective History.

The way it started out, she thought, was amazingly... simple.

It started like this.

Once upon a time, there was A Gosunkugi Hikaru, one that actually

became quite powerful at the art of magic. This particular Gosunkugi had

one day achieved (accidentally, of course, through an odd attempt at magic

involving stick-em pads, baby oil, and sheep) dumped himself into a nexus

of sorts in-between worlds. There, he honed his skills and eventually

refined the process of crossing worlds (and without sheep). Meanwhile,

across the worlds, various other Gosunkugis were also making the discovery

(some with sheep, some without) and they eventually, under the First one's

guidance, made a guild.

The Gosunkugi Collective.

The requirements, early on, for membership of this collective, was

that the member in question merely stumble accidentally into the rest of

the group, (which was how the very first members were gathered) and that

they be Gosunkugi Hikaru. However, as time went on, the more liberal

Gosunkugis had managed to state their case and the membership opened to

any Gosunkugi that had shown any latent talent. This had resulted in the

various progeny of Gosunkugis (and to their surprise, some ancestors).

Then, the membership standards were loosened even further, to allow for

Gosunkugis with the potential, and in extreme danger.

In the third 'year' of it's existence, The Founder, Gosunkugi

'Alpha', had disappeared, and has not been seen again. He had left a

message, warning of a time when there would be internal strife, and a last

inductee, a 'Gosunkugi Omega', would tear asunder all which had been

achieved before, and force all of them to reconsider their goals.

After this bit was mostly drivel about the creation of the

Gosunkugi Collective Continuum. Basically, it went like this: in

an infinite universe, anything is possible. Therefore, it was entirely

possible that there was a reality that was largely empty, save a small

solar system, a planet with plenty of water and oxygen, and a conveniently

built citadel containing everything that a growing Collective might need.

It was, admittedly, a nearly impossible possibility, but with the universe

being infinite and all, it was just waiting to be found. Some Gosunkugis

say it was an incredible display of imagination and effort by Gosunkugi

Alpha to have found such a place amongst the infinite, others say it was

an incredible stroke of luck, more say that he was aided by Gosunkugi's

(Gos#2's that is) Magikal Improbability Generator, and an even more

cynical lot dismiss the whole thing as a demonstration as to how exactly

lazy Gosunkugi Alpha was.

This information, of course, didn't help Skeride a bit.

"Who's there?"

Skeride gasped, startled at the unexpected intrusion. An elderly

Gosunkugi was watching her, bemused. She could tell from his age and

gentle demeanour, it had to be Gos#99.

"Oh... just, ah, looking for some information," she said.

"Ske-chan," sighed Gos#99, "I know what you're looking for..."

"And why won't anyone tell me?!" she demanded.

Gos#99 tapped his finger to his chin in thought, a serious

expression on his face, obviously picking his next words carefully. Then

he put a hand on her shoulder and said, "Skeride... Gosunkugi #182 was a

good person at heart. Just remember the good times, no matter what you

may hear, and let the dead rest in peace."

Skeride wandered the halls, a melancholy hanging on to her mood.

It was at that time that she realised she was totally, hopelessly lost.

"Excuse me, do you need some help?" a middle-aged woman asked.

"Yeah... ah... where's the front door?"

The woman laughed lightly, the sort of laugh that makes smiling a

little infectious. She took Skeride by the hand and walked through

various passages until they had reached the front door.

"Thank you very much," said Skeride, bowing in gratitude.

"Anytime, dear," said the woman.

"Akari-chan! Where'd you go?" called a voice in the distance.

Skeride blinked, surprised that the name of her ancestor was being called.

Were they still alive? Could it be possible? Maybe she could talk with

her great-grandparents... that'd be fascinating.

"Oh dear, I must be going," said the lady, "you'd best be going

too. I think the technicians of the continuum are doing some odd sort of

maintenance soon. You shouldn't be here when it happens."

"Oh... okay." Skeride stepped through the doors, slowly beginning

to fade. As she did so, she turned around, asking, "by the way, it was

nice to meet you... Miss... um..."

"Akari," the lady said with a smile, "Gosunkugi Akari." Skeride's

eyes widened in surprise and she tried to stop from fading back into her

world, but couldn't. As the palace of the Gosunkugis disappeared and her

room came into being all around her, she heard Akari's voice through the

worlds, "Don't worry... we'll be watching. Be good, Ske-chan..."

"Akari-chan, were you talking with one of the kids again?" whined

Gosunkugi.

"Darling, I don't see the harm in talking to her. After all, it

has been years since we've talked to any of our children... and our deal

does not prevent us from talking to them if they come here, right?"

Gosunkugi blinked. Then he kicked himself mentally.

Akari sighed, knowing exactly how he felt, since she'd only

realised that herself a few moments ago while spying on her

great-granddaughter. She wished she'd taken part in all her

great-granddaughter's lessons when she was younger, her and her husband,

but it was too late for that. But... there would be other days.

"Come on, darling, let's head back in. We're supposed to take a

vacation at Niagara Falls in a few minutes, ne?"

"Oooh... that's right. Our anniversary." He smiled and took her

by the hand, and looked forward to meeting their great-granddaughter soon.

"Niagara Falls, here we come!"

"Darling... this time, don't use the sheep."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

-the end-

---------------------------------------------------------------------------


	11. Tapestry Torn

**TAPESTRY TORN **

**Mousse's Story **

by "K'thardin"

Edited by L. Bartram, C. Willmore and J. Hosmer

--

After finishing a morning shower, the man paused to look in the mirror. The person staring back at him appeared in his mid-eighties, on the taller side of medium and well-muscled, and sported long hair and a thick beard which were both completely gray. The reflection also had an unusual gaze - its eyes seemed to be filled with-

_Sadness? Regret? Not that you don't have much to be regretful for, Mousse_, he thought sarcastically. _I'm not getting any younger, either_.

Quite the understatement. Time would always take its toll, and the little aging he thought he'd cheated the clock out of had been repaid. With interest. He was a lot slower now than five years ago, and getting slower all the time. His strength was also beginning to dwindle along with his speed. He knew it was unlikely he would make it to ninety years of age. Mousse shook his head and sighed. _Death gets us all, eventually_.

After a few moments of absent-minded adjustment of his robe and daydreams of the past, Mousse found himself at a desk, looking at an opened journal. It was old, but unused. For quite some time now he'd been debating with himself whether it was worth his while to fill its pages... Strong arms reached around from behind and hugged him tightly. He smiled; she always made him smile.

"Good morning."

His wife's voice was soft and somehow musical, like wind chimes. He turned and looked up at her smiling face. It was a running joke between the two that what the years took from him, they gave to her. Anti-Bacterial-Liquid-Hand-Soap looked only about thirty-five, with her green hair completely free of gray. Only her eyes betrayed her true age, which was about sixty-eight. Among the Amazons, age made women wise, and it was that depth of thought and feeling brought about by experience at living that filled her gaze, not the frivolity of youth.

He reached up and grabbed onto her hands while she bent down to kiss him. Her eyes locked onto the blank paper on the desk, and she broke off.

"Write it, already!" The firm tone of her voice caused him to look up at her for a moment in surprise. Normally, she never raised her voice at him for anything. He sighed and turned back to contemplating the journal in front of him.

"If you feel it must be done, then do it." A far gentler tone this time.

"I keep thinking that Shampoo will succeed soon, that I will be there to help him if..." _When, _he mentally corrected himself. "She succeeds."

She said nothing and just continued to hold him. She knew as well as he did that it was unlikely.

_Dammit! Well, if I can't be there, at least I can help him by telling him what happened. It is unlikely Shampoo will. _

He frowned at the thought. She hated her Great-Grandmother, and yet she'd almost turned into a double of Cologne. He wished it were not so.

_Like a lot of my life, _he thought wryly.

Anti-Bacterial-Liquid-Hand-Soap hugged her husband tightly, then disengaged herself and left their room, giving him the privacy she knew he would need. Mousse sat still for a moment. He gathered his thoughts, drew in his breath, then finally picked up the pen and began to write.

--

Let me explain something before I commit this story to paper. I was not there when it happened, but to this day, I wish to whatever gods or god or whatever is up there I had been. Who knows? Maybe my presence could have done something about it, given you a chance to defend yourself. Something. Probably not.

In any case that is now a moot point. You were killed. My friend, my rival, my enemy was dead, and nothing I could do, or can do, will change that fact. Nor will it change what happened after that. You were truly the center of everything we did, all of us those of us who loved you and those of us who fought you.

Shampoo once told me that with her witch's sight she could see the tapestry still there, waiting for you. Personally, I always thought you didn't need a witch's sight. All you have to do is look around. I think perhaps if you had lived, things might have turned out differently for all those involved, but like I said before there is not a damn thing I can do about it now. Except tell what I know about it all. That is the last duty I have as I near the end of my life; I owe you that at least. I can only hope one day that it will be of some help to you when the time comes to restore the tapestry.

I suppose that is why Shampoo, the woman I love and always will, does what she does. I hope she succeeds, but I'll be long gone before that becomes an issue.

I remember the day clearly. Kasumi came in the restaurant. She looked hollow, drained of life, almost as if she were the one death had taken, and not you.

--

Mousse paused for a moment as the memory overtook him.

_She walked up slowly and took Shampoo by the shoulders and said quietly, "Ranma is dead. H-he's dead Shampoo." _

He felt tears come to him unbidden.

_Damn. After all this time, it still hurts, _he thought. He willed his eyes back into dryness and turned his attention back to his writing.

--

I watched as tears streamed down Kasumi's face when she said that you had been killed. I watched as the plate Shampoo held slid out of her hands and crashed to the floor, destroying the dish while scattering the food over the floor. She bent down to clean up the mess, not seeming to understand what was just said to her.

Kasumi slapped Shampoo.

For my part, I could not believe what I had just heard. Could not think, could not speak, could not even breathe. Ranma dead?! Just like that?!

Yes, just like that. And then Kasumi, kind and loving Kasumi, had slapped someone?! It was beyond belief. I then heard a voice from the corner of the room.

"Oh well, there are always other potential son-in-laws."

It had come from that old Bitch. The one who had taken my Shampoo away from me, had been molding her in her own image; that of a soulless and unfeeling ghoul. I hated her for that, and I am sure you saw what she was doing to Shampoo as well as I. She beat the Hell out of me on a regular basis too (you saw that a lot), but it was only because I would not leave Shampoo. A lot of good that did her.

But did you know what the old Ghoul did to me when I was younger? Shampoo and I were just little kids and exchanged an innocent kiss. That old Bitch saw it and broke my head open with her staff, nearly killing me. My eyesight went bad after that. She had taken my sight from me. For nothing more than kissing Shampoo when we were little kids.

But you know something else? I did not hate her for that. I hated her for what it did to Shampoo. She was my friend and more at the time, and I watched as she steeled her soul against me, trying to push me away so I would not get hurt. I stayed with her whether she wanted it or not.

There were other times. I would help Shampoo with some task or test that Cologne would set for her (whether she wanted it or not), or I would try to curb her insane methods of training Shampoo. Believe me, you don't want to know some of the things she put Shampoo through.

Every time I interfered, I paid a painful price, and as I was male, it was hardly frowned upon. Still I managed to curb some of it, as she had to take some time out for me, leaving less for Shampoo. I paid for that too. I hated Cologne for all these things, but those words she spoke I knew had hurt Shampoo worse than all the pain she had ever inflicted on me at once. I hated her more in that instant than I had in my whole life.

My weapons were retrieved from their hiding places, and though it would have probably cost me my life, I was going to deal with her once and for all. I was not fast enough. Shampoo had already beat me to it. I watched as her hands moved faster than I had ever seen them to reach out and grab the old Bitch's eyes. I moved then too.

I ran to Kasumi and pulled her out of the Nekohanten before she saw anymore. I told her to go home and that I would take of everything here. She didn't even seem disgusted at what she had seen. Almost satisfied. Gentle-hearted Kasumi, satisfied at such a scene of violence?! It made no sense at the time. In any case I had more to deal with at the time.

She nodded, turned and left. I came in just in time to see Shampoo finish devouring what was left of Cologne's eyes then collapse on the floor holding herself.

Oh yes, she did that, Ranma. I remember the revulsion I felt. I felt my gorge rise then, but I knew a lot of things had to be done and that now was no time for having any reactions like that. So I used a mental technique that my old master had taught me. It allowed me to wall my feelings away, so I could do what needed done. I don't know why I did it. To this day I do not know.

I tore off a piece of cloth from my robe and walked over to the screaming form of Cologne clutching at the empty sockets where her eyes used to be. I bandaged her eyes, stanching the flow of blood. It was more mercy than she had ever shown anyone in her life.

I then took Shampoo's comatose form up to the bathroom. I ran bath water and undressed her; she did not resist. In retrospect, that was the first time I had ever seen her nude. She continued not to resist as I cleaned the food and blood off her body. I dried her, dressed her, and led her to her room where I put her down on her bed. I had learned a few things living here, and using a certain pressure point to put her to sleep was no problem.

Throughout this I had been dispassionate, due to what I had done to myself. My master had told me, however, that walling away your feelings forever would eventually destroy you; no matter how much it hurt, you must experience your grief. Only then could one continue on.

I then walked out of the restaurant to the empty lot behind it and let the wall around my emotions collapse. It all came at me at one time and I screamed the scream of one who is going through the ultimate torture. The fence surrounding the empty lot was a convenient target to vent all the anger, grief, despair, and revulsion I felt. It did not last long. I still needed to destroy something. There was an old statue back there too. I proceeded to hit with my fists. It finally broke in half after repeated blows. That shocked me back to myself and I was aware of my surroundings again and of the pain of my bloodied knuckles.

I returned to the Nekohanten to bandage my wounds. The old Ghoul (a very apt description) was nowhere in sight; I don't know if that was a good thing or not. I am sorry to say that that display of grief was not for you. It was for what your death had done to Shampoo and the knowledge I could do nothing about it. That was what really hurt, and at the time you know I wanted you dead anyway.

I did grieve for you, only much later.

--

A tear fell on the page that Mousse was currently writing on. He brushed it away and continued to write.

--

The funeral was a few days later. Everyone was there except one, who was very conspicuous by her absence; oh, and Ryouga (lost again). I suppose Akane had her own demons to deal with. As for Shampoo, she clung to me throughout the funeral, almost not knowing where she was. It would be a long time before she recovered I knew. I had changed her into her cat form, as the police had been searching for her, for obvious reasons (I know what few customers we had at the time must have told the authorities what they had witnessed).

The old Ghoul was there too. She was wearing sunglasses; the damage to her eye sockets had been healed by some of the magic she possessed. It could not replace her eyes, though, and that gave me some small satisfaction.

It was here that I grieved for you. I realized that had things been different, had a lot of things been different, you would have been a friend. A good friend. I cried then, for you, and wished that I could have known you as a friend instead of the enemy you were before.

I blame myself for that for, at the time, I could not allow myself to forgive you the circumstances of your "engagement" to Shampoo. I was a fool, and I can only ask you to forgive me for this. I know I will never be able to forgive myself.

After the funeral, Kasumi asked if Shampoo and I would come to the Tendo residence. Something about a matter that needed to be discussed. I went. Shampoo had fallen asleep just before we got there so we had put her in the guest room. Kasumi got right to the point.

--

Mousse snapped the pen in anger when he remembered this.

_"You know it was Happosai that called forth that spirit?" It wasn't really a question, more of a statement. _

_"Yes." Nabiki had called the day after Kasumi had come, and had given him the details _

_"Can you tell me who gave him this?" She handed him a scroll. _

Mousse opened a drawer, retrieved another pen, and continued to write.

--

She showed me a scroll written in simple Kanji. Really large, too. Also in a very distinct handwriting style. One I had seen many a time. I hadn't noticed I had crushed it in my grip. That seemed all the confirmation Kasumi needed.

That Old Bitch had done more than I thought she had. She had destroyed a major portion of all our lives. Worse, she had taken away Shampoo's sanity. And all for her damned plans for you and Shampoo. And now those plans would never come to fruition and worse. The way you were killed would ensure that Shampoo would never be happy with any other man. She had finally made sure that I would never get Shampoo.

She had won. Against me at least. I felt my rage build, but underneath I heard a small voice. It was to this voice I listened. It counseled that there would be another time and place to exact revenge.

_Now you must take Shampoo away from all this. No matter what happens SHE is your primary concern. _

I asked if Shampoo could stay there for awhile so I could pack her and my things. It was a couple of days later that I heard that Happosai had been murdered and Akane had disappeared. Happosai could rot in all the Hells for all I cared, but I like many others went out looking for she that had disappeared.

I don't know if it was luck or fate, but I found Akane. The funeral was a couple of days later. My soul was ashes.

I'm so sorry, Ranma! I wish I could have done something. I kind of wish Ryouga had been around. You know he loved her and might have been able to prevent this. As it was, it was not going to be very pretty when he finally returned.

Like I said before, not a damn thing that can be done about that, especially now.

I left Japan, smuggling Shampoo out with me in her feline form. The Tendos had given me Happosai's possessions, knowing quite a number were of the dangerous mystical kind. I think they were hoping I would give them to the Amazon elders so they would be safe. I couldn't trust them with such items so I kept them. We returned to Niichezu, Shampoo's home village.

To this day, I don't really think of it as my home. Some place like that where the rulers are just like the old Ghoul could never be called a home of mine. There she told them what had happened. What she had done, and that she wasn't even close to being sorry. For her crime she was cast out of the society she had always known. I knew this to be an injustice of the grossest sort.

So after I had seen to Shampoo, I pleaded my case before the Elders of the Amazons. They listened and decided to disown her family as well. Other than kill everyone there for their mistreatment of she who I loved, I could do no more. I am glad they've practically disappeared.

So she went to Jusenkyo. I had really no choice but to follow. It was obvious why she had gone; after all I knew the legends as well as she did. I was there as she tried with the first small animal that she found. The body was yours but it still had the soul of whatever animal she had used. I watched as she went insane again and broke it's neck. Disposing of the body was easy. I knew a little magic myself and I knew how to make a substance that would burn something completely to ashes.

She was mad for a good ten years. During that time I took care of her. Bathed her. Fed her. Combed her hair. I talked to her all the time. Usually I read to her from books that I obtained at the village. I stopped her from going to that spring when I could. But I could not watch her all the time, and she slipped by me occasionally, usually when I went to the village to get supplies. One hundred twenty three times she got past me.

Believe me, you don't forget things like that. After a while, technology improved to the point where force fields were possible. I acquired a prototype from Nabiki and placed it on the spring. Shampoo killed more animals, but I knew now that would be all she would be able to do.

While at the village trading post I met a young woman. She became my confidant and friend, my only friend while I was there. Her name was Anti- Bacteria-Liquid-Hand-Soap. To this day I wonder where the older generation got these names. She once asked me why I take care of Shampoo. Later she found out the reason why I would not leave her when she became aware of the curse and blessing of love that had struck her.

I'll explain later.

At the end of the ten years I remember watching Shampoo's slow deterioration and wondering, 'Is there anything I can really do? There must be something. Damn,' I'd told myself, 'If only that old Ghoul had not given Happosai that damned scroll!' I had not realized I had said it out loud until Shampoo grabbed me. For the first time in a long time I did not see madness in her eyes as she asked, "What the Hell do you mean?"

I could not deny her this answer, so I told her, even showed her the scroll that was used. I also gave her a scroll her Great-grandmother had written her before she left. She did not like what was on it, but it gave her a new focus and purpose. I have to admit, I did not like what I read on it either. It basically said that because of what Shampoo was going to do that she had doomed the Joketsukozu, the Tendos, the Saotomes, and all of Japan.

I knew that was wrong. It was what that old Ghoul had done to you that would cause all of these awful happenings to come to pass. What it did for Shampoo, though, was give her a new strength and purpose. She demanded I retrain her, help her strengthen her body, help her recover her fighting skills. I think that was the best time I had ever had with her.

After about a year she had judged herself strong enough, and she went to see the Witch of Jusenkyo, despite my vehement protests. I have no idea what she said to the Witch, but the Witch agreed to train Shampoo in the arts of magic.

She returned later that day and seemed very different for some reason, but I did not question it. She was no longer insane, and that was good enough for me.

The next night, however, she came on to me, saying that when I accepted I would have to leave.

Leave her?! I had never left her, and what she had just demanded of me hurt. It hurt in a way that was impossible to describe. I declined, of course. Despite the pain, I had to make sure she would be all right. She did the same the next night. And the next. And the next. For fifteen nights she did this. The combination of hurt and fierce desire was torture more painful than any I had experienced before.

The fifteenth night, I could no longer help myself...

--

She was nearly nude, and just looked at him. His hands reached out of their own volition and slowly brought her to himself. Her head bent down and her lips met his. They stayed that way for a time.

Finally, he broke away and parted her nightgown, feeling her smooth skin under his fingertips. By this time she had removed the shirt he was wearing, and was beginning to start on his pants. He pulled back and admired her form.

_She's a goddess given form,_ he thought; her face, her hair, her limbs, her breasts...

He watched as her legs spread out before him and she moaned in anticipation as he continued to run his hands all over her body. Finally they could hold no longer.

--

Mousse shuddered and tried to block out the memory as he continued to write.

--

It was wonderful. I hated myself.

At the end, I collapsed in her arms, my head on her breasts, and wished that tomorrow would never come. Like I said before there is not a damn thing that could be done about it. The Americans have a saying for circumstances like this: "Ain't life a Bitch?" They have no idea how right they are.

I left the next morning and began wandering the world like Ryouga (well maybe not like him; I don't think anyone could wander like our old friend). I remember waking up and seeing her face, trying burn the image in my head. When I left, I left all of Happosai's belongings, knowing she would probably need a few of them.

I also left my glasses. A few years before I had gone completely blind, but I no longer needed them. My old master had taught me a technique that used my ki as a set of eyes. I saw much better with it anyway.

As I walked away I realized she had just screwed me in more ways than one. Because of what she had done, I no longer loved her - I couldn't! I needed to just get away, get my center back. Too much had been taken; I really didn't have anything anymore. Then I realized that only the things of my old life were gone. Considering what it consisted of, I found I did not miss it. It was time to begin a new life, and though I did not know it at the time, a part of that new life had already begun even before the old one had ended.

I wandered through China, Mongolia, Thailand, Japan, probably a few other countries in that area too as I was not really paying any attention to where I was. I learned all sorts of techniques in my travels, met a lot of people, made a few friends, and one or two enemies.

I found out during my travels that Ukyou and Ryouga were married and even had a child. Only problem was she had never really gotten over your death and it drove her insane. From what I understand she actually pulled off an ultimate shi shi houkodan that destroyed a good portion of Nerima. She gave herself up afterwards and was institutionalized. I wish I could have done something about that too. I know Ryouga could never forgive himself either.

I even ran into Toma and Kirin a couple of times. Seems Toma had finally found himself a bride; a young woman who went by the name of Tendo Kurumi (I am sure you recognize who that is), and they were out sight- seeing in Japan. It amused me to no end that he actually got one of the Tendos for his wife (well sort of a Tendo). Anyway, I tried to steer away from them, but they saw me and cornered me near a coffee shop. I really did not want to spoil what appeared to be a honeymoon, but during the conversation they asked how you and Akane were. They were understandably saddened when I told them and, after we parted, went directly to Nerima to pay their respects.

They're dead now. They were killed when the Musk Dynasty, longtime enemies of the Joketsuzoku, attacked their floating island. As I write this, you are long since dead, as I will likely be when finally you read my tale. Nonetheless, take this advice from a man who will die to one he thinks will not want to pass twice through the underworld - stay out of Togenkyo. The leader of the Musk is a crazed half-man, half-woman, and knowing it was your own moukou takabisha that dried up the spring he pledged his hopes of normality upon will not help your credit any in his (her?) court.

As for Kirin, I wandered through his mountain kingdom a few times during my travels. Somehow he had already found out about what happened to you, and it was good to talk to him about it. He's been a good friend to me. Though I haven't seen him in a decade and a half, I can only hope he is doing all right too, as I seriously doubt I would survive the journey there to find out.

Still, during my travels I was looking for something; even I did not know what at the time. Fortunately, someone else did. Hell, she was the first one of us to realize it.

Anyway, she had been tracking me for some time and had finally pinned me down outside of a small village in Thailand. She came up on my campsite during the night, where I had been trying for a few days to master kachuu tenshin amagurikan

(Oh, incidentally I finally did master said technique while I was there).

--

Mousse smiled, remembering the exchange he had between himself and a certain green-haired amazon.

"There you are! Do you know how hard I have been looking for you!?" Mousse turned from his contemplation of the chestnuts in the fire. He recognized the language that was shouted at him, and knew the owner of that melodic voice that he'd always liked to listen to instantly.

"Anti, this is a surprise! What are you doing here?" She looked at him like he had just asked the dumbest question in the world.

"Trying to find you! You disappeared without a word to anyone! Do you know how worried I was for you?" He looked at her for a moment then bowed his head, unable to bear the look of anguish in her eyes.

_She was my only friend back... there. She deserved better than that. _

He raised his head and started to make an apology before he was interrupted by her headlong rush into his arms.

"Dammit! Don't say anything!" She looked up at him and continued more softly, "You just scared me, but I understand. I know why you left."

He almost started to ask how she could know before she forestalled him by placing her fingers on his lips. "Don't. Believe me, you wouldn't want to know how anyway."

It was then that he noticed a small scar across her cheekbone that wasn't there before, and now marred her otherwise perfect face. It was very faint, you would have to be in the right light to see it, but he didn't see using light, and saw it very well. What did she do? What?

He tried to give voice to the question, only to be stopped yet again. "Please, just don't ask." She was actually pleading, "Please."

He looked into her eyes and found he could not deny her. He was fairly certain how she knew what happened, but because it was she that had asked, he would never attempt to find out. It was the closest he had come to actually hating Shampoo.

"Now will you let me finish?" she asked; wisely he stayed silent. "It pains me to see you like this, just wandering around without reason. Looking for something and you don't know what. If you keep this up you'll wind up like the old martial arts mistress Cologne. She gave up everything, even love, and she just became a soulless and unfeeling monster. Shampoo is well on her way to becoming the same thing. I don't want to see it happen to you too. Please find your heart. Don't become like them. Don't waste your life like that." She grasped him tightly and buried her face in his chest. "I couldn't bear it," she said softly.

Suddenly Mousse realized what had been growing between them for some time, and he knew exactly what needed to be done then. Drawing her close to him he spoke, the words being the wisest he had ever uttered.

"I have already found my heart."

His tone made it absolutely clear what he meant. Mousse looked again and saw he had just written exactly word for word what Anti-Bacterial-Liquid-Hand-Soap had told him.

_You made sure I never forgot. You have always loved me and made sure I knew it. I wish I did not have to leave you alone. _

--

Those words were some of the wisest I had ever heard. She had always been there for me as I took care of Shampoo, and now she had come to give me exactly what I needed then. What I know we both needed. She looked up at me and smiled in that most beautiful way and then she did something strange. Sometimes I wish I knew what prompted her to do what she did right then, but you know what? I don't really care.

She reached up and touched my face tenderly with her right hand. She threw a punch with her left. I did not even think, I just caught it, and she smiled again. It took me a moment to realize what she had just done. And without saying it she had just shown me exactly how she felt: She loved me. I looked down into her glorious eyes and found that this woman, she who had been my confidant and my best friend for over ten years, that I was totally, hopelessly, unconditionally in love with her. I loved her.

I gathered her into my arms and just held her close. I laughed and I cried and smiled and cried again. She held me as all those feelings worked their way out of me. It took a long time. Here was a woman that loved me, that would never hurt me (Hell, she doesn't really even raise her voice), that would always be there for me. Contrary to Shampoo and Cologne that had been nothing but sorrow, she would be nothing but joy (and so she has).

Soon, all that ran its course to be replaced by a warm feeling that has never left, and as tears streamed down my cheeks, I thanked whatever gods there were in heaven that had decided to give me some small measure of happiness. She took me back to the village where we were married.

We lived on the outskirts of the village and were very happy there for many years. I found out something here. Home truly is where the heart is. Anti was my heart and wherever she was so was my home. Here is something else I try not to dwell on too much. We had many kids, she and I, and we took them to visit Shampoo often. After all someone had to keep an eye on her.

I went alone a few times, however. It was one of those times I found someone else there besides the Witch and Shampoo. I remember cresting a hill, coming to Jusenkyo a different way for some reason. I saw a little girl there, about nine years of age picking flowers. I wondered why would there be a little girl there. I walked up to her and what I saw then was burned into my mind. This girl was very familiar, only a blind person could not see what was familiar about her, and I was not that blind.

--

"Hi," Mousse said.

She looked up and smiled, "Hi!"

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Picking flowers," she replied in such a sweet voice.

"Oh," he said. "Is your mother in?"

"Yes! She's in the cabin over there." She pointed. "Would you like me to show you?"

_Such innocence_, he thought. "No, I can find my own way."

"O.K." She extended her hand. "My name is Akane. What's yours?"

Akane. How fitting. He smiled and took her hand. "Mousse."

Mousse let go and turned to leave. He walked a little way and turned his head to give the illusion he was looking at a certain spot.

"You can show yourself now. I know you are there," he said to what appeared to be empty air. Mousse watched as the Witch of Jusenkyo materialized in front of him.

"And so now you know. What are you going to do about it?" she asked. Mousse thought about it for a moment.

"Nothing. If she does not want me to know about her, I will not go against her wishes." At this, it seemed she almost relaxed. "I would appreciate it if you made sure Akane does not tell her mother she met me."

"She won't," she said simply.

--

It was quite obvious she was my daughter, but I decided not to confront Shampoo about it. I really did not want to force any issues like that, not with her being so young in any case. Perhaps when she was older. Probably not. Some things are probably best left untold.

I turned and set off towards the cabin. That was the first and last time I saw my daughter alive. About the time she would have been seventeen, I found out from the Witch she had drowned in one of the many springs of Jusenkyo.

I destroyed a lot of territory that day.

--

Mousse broke another pen. He simply reached in his desk drawer and withdrew another one.

--

We moved back to Japan after a few years and started up the Nekohanten (Shampoo had sort of given it to me, although she still legally owned it) again which had been closed for quite some time. Cologne had been gone from it for a while. I suppose she had finally gone off and died somewhere.

I cannot forgive her for what she has done, but for some reason I hope she found some redemption. Although with all she has done in her life, I shudder to think what, if anything, could have been so great as to redeem her. I really did not wish to go back, but there was really no choice seeing as how most of the village had already left for the cities. It's what happens when you cannot adapt to changing times. The first part of the old Ghoul's prophecy had come to pass.

Tofu's clinic was destroyed in a very strange explosion some time later. Kasumi was mortally wounded in the blast. It was said Ryouga was to blame. I visited him in prison. I knew it was not he who did it. He was released a couple of weeks later when a similar blast destroyed another building in Japan. That building was the Tendo dojo, and it took a victim as well: Nabiki. I wonder about that sometimes, but there is nothing I could do about that either. The second part of that prophecy had come to pass.

Ukyou was killed in the insane asylum a few years later. Yes, I say killed. Ryouga told me the story later as he came from burying her. I am sure there is more to it than even he knows, but that is not what matters. Another of my friends was dead and I couldn't do a thing about it.

I went alone and visited the site. I found a lonely grave with a simple inscription on the marker. Sumimasen. It fit.

--

_Why didn't you let me help you, Ryouga, my friend? _he asked as he continued to write, occasionally wiping away tears.

--

He died a few years ago. I don't like to think about it much. Shampoo continued her research to try and bring your soul back from the spring it was imprisoned in. I, for my part, continued to live happily with my family. Still, even I can feel something is wrong.

The tapestry of our lives was torn apart when its center, you, was taken from us. That tapestry remains, though so many are dead and gone, others changed beyond belief. As I said before, it still waits for you to return to set right what has gone wrong.

When you were killed, all the supporting pieces of the tapestry were heavily damaged in some way. We needed you. The problem is that when Shampoo does succeed, as there is no doubt she will one day, very few of us will be around to support you as you do what you must. Because just as we needed you, you needed us. Without the supporting pieces of the tapestry, you will fail. I only hope that whatever gods are in heaven will provide you with others to help you so that you do not.

I wish I could be there. The story of my life. To always never be where I would most wish to be. Some would argue to be where I was most needed to be, which just happens to be in other places when all my friends were either being killed or whatever else happened to them.

Forgive me, Ranma, for I will be long gone when you finally appear again. I will not be able to help you then, but if you find yourself reading this one day, take heart and remember this: the world needs you to be strong. And try to find some happiness. Don't become a soulless void like a lot of people were after you died.

Take care my friend; I hope to see you in the next world. We'll all be waiting for you there.

--

Mousse put the pen down and closed the book.

_Gods, that hurt to do, _he thought. He moved his chair and stood up. His wife heard him stir, and knowing that what he had just written down was very painful for him, opened the door and came into their room.

_Deity, _she thought as she looked at his face. It was contorted from grief, his eyes were red-rimmed, and his hands looked as if they were covered in ink. She almost flew over to him to hold him, comfort him. She held him as he clutched her tightly and softly cried.

--

Thirty years later, the letter was delivered. --

--

'I know someday you'll have a beautiful life

I know someday you'll be the sun in somebody else's sky

But why? Why? Why can't it be-can't it be mine?'

--"Black" written by Eddie Vedder

--

END TAPESTRY TORN


	12. Nikumi

NIKUMI

by Adrian Wong

Edited by 4cw6

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

R2096 characters and situations used with permission. Takahashi's aren't.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

" " Japanese dialogue

thoughts

[ Chinese dialogue

/ Illusory sounds, memories

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hate Japanese Men.

It all began once upon a time, when a cute looking, short Japanese boy

by the name of Happosai stole my heart and my treasures from me . . . the

words he said as he fled from the village have stayed with me for the rest

of my life:

[HA! Ya think that I would've been tied down for real by a Chinese

chick? I think not!!

The seed of my hatred (and I do insist that it is justified) was planted

at that moment, after that heartless betrayal.

You must think it is terribly racist of me to make such a statement.

You must think of me as a bitter, hateful woman, as Mousse used to think and

probably still does. You may even think that I'm evil, as Shampoo did and

probably still does . . .

Think what you like, I've long since stopped caring about what others

think of me.

Except for her . . .

Shampoo, my vibrant, winsome Shampoo, the jewel of the tribe, the pride

of my line. My great-granddaughter . . . daughter . . . my soul-mate. She

was one of the few who wasn't intimidated by my hideous appearance later in

life, and the only one who would trust me enough to open up her heart for

me, asking for my advice.

[Hiba-chan, Lotion and Tissue won't play with me anymore after I've

defeated them in the elementary tournament. What should I do?

[Hiba-chan, Mouthwash and Toothpaste are giving me flowers . . . but

Jewel and Blossom are unhappy because of it. What should I do?

[Hiba-chan, what should I do?

[What should I do?

[What should I do?

And I had answered her, with my years of experience on such trivial

matters that were somehow the foci of every young girl's life, and she had

always listened. I'm proud to say that my advice always served her well.

She was the best there was of her generation, and yet her peers loved her,

and the younger ones adored her, and used her as their role model. One

could say that she was the golden girl of the village.

She was a happy child, a fortunate fact that attributed to her

playfulness and child-like quality that would eventually follow her into her

blossoming years.

Instead of slacking off because of her success, young Shampoo was always

trying to do her best in the art, hoping to grow up like someone that she

saw as her role model . . .

[Hiba-chan! When I grow older, I'll be strong and smart just like you!

How much it used to warm my heart to hear her say that, day after day.

I was her mentor then, and she my pupil. The trust and love between us was

strong, as strong as that between a parent and her child. And if the mutual

manipulation between Son-in . . . I mean, Ranma and his parents was taken as

canon, then my love for Shampoo had exceeded that of a mother and father put

together.

And then, when Shampoo was thirteen, something . . . happened,

threatening to destroy the bonds between us . . .

. . . something by the name of Mousse.

Now . . . there is a secret hidden behind that boy, a secret that only

the older generation of the village knows of, a secret that even HE himself

was unaware of, much less Shampoo.

Mousse has 1/4 of Japanese blood in him.

Back in the days of the Japanese Invasion, or as you could call it, the

Second World War, China, with the Communist and the People's Republic

fighting among themselves, fell easy prey into the hands of the Japanese

Armies. The big, more crowded cities got the worse of it. Chinese men were

tortured in hideous ways that even the devil himself couldn't think of,

before they were mercifully killed off. Chinese women, young, old, virgins,

pregnant, all were subjected to very much the same . . . after they'd been

raped, of course. And the frightful thing was that those deaths were all

meaningless: none of those tortured and killed were guilty of anything more

than bowing too late in front of an enemy soldier, or simply being too

physically tempting for their own good. The streets were covered with dead

people, all barely humanoid after the deformations that they had been

subjected to when they were still alive.

Compared to those Japanese soldiers, Happosai, who merely beat up some

of the women in our village and fled after robbing their valuables, was

almost a saint.

The elders, and myself, had thought that the Amazon Village was

relatively safe in its remote location.

We were proven wrong.

Just a little while after the official start of World War II, a clan of

female ninjas came to our village for a little 'friendly sparring', as they

called it. What was the name of the clan? Kencer? Kenzan? Anyway, they

simply showed up at our village, and one of them challenged the winner of

the maiden tournament to a battle of life and death, to see which clan of

woman warriors was the strongest.

I, who was already the leader of the village at that point, had of

course forbidden the young warrior to take such a bet. We Chinese Amazons,

at that point, still believed that there was no honour in death.

The champion of the kunoichi clan, a girl ninja with a coolly arrogant

expression, began taunting our champion with words vile enough to enrage any

living person, let alone an Amazon. The people of the village were angered

by the kunoichi's words too, and urged our champion to take on the

challenge. I couldn't stop her . . .

. . . a thing that I would regret for years to come.

Our champion had already gone through 100 matches that day just to get

to become the winner. Exhausted, and no longer thinking clearly, the girl

fell prey to the kunoichi's rapid and precise attacks.

The entire village watched in horror as our winner's heart was pierced

through by the kunoichi's katana.

The following couple of hours was spent in crazed, savage battle, in

which the Amazons and the Kenzan Kunoichi went all out against each other,

with nothing else in mind but to kill . . . and kill . . . and kill.

By the end of the day, we had lost a few warriors, while each and every

one of the Kenzan Kunoichi was turned into pulpy masses of amorphous flesh.

Many of the villagers had helplessly thrown up on the scene after regaining

their senses.

That was the day when the law regarding the Kiss of Death was written.

The Kenzan clan never troubled us directly again. However, they did

something else, something that had almost wiped the Amazon village off the

face of earth.

They bribed a company of the invading army to launch a direct assault on

the Amazon village.

As a result, the armed might of our village was forced to compete with

the modern weaponry of the Japanese. Many of our men were killed, while

some of the younger and more beautiful ones were . . . treated as women,

before they were killed too. Only a few had managed to escape, and only

with the help of their warrior wives sacrificing their lives on their

behalf.

Young women were raped, of course, and subjected to degrading acts that

would drive any non-warrior women insane. Not even the lowliest prostitutes

could have survived that kind of degradation.

I can still remember the sight of one of the village girls, being pinned

under a rather handsome soldier as he roughly violated her body while

taunting her with vile words that I could never forget.

[Now who's stronger, huh? Man or woman? C'mon, answer me, you Chinese

bitch! Who is fing stronger, huh?!

But the girl still had her dignity, and bit her tongue and took her own

life rather than listening to the man continue to mouth such blasphemy.

Sadly, that didn't stop the man from continuing to violate her body.

It was only by pure chance and miracle that I managed to find a

long-forgotten formula capable of temporary rejuvenation. With it, many of

the elders, and myself with them, managed to regain young bodies to go with

our wizened skills. With the full power of the Amazonian Heritage on our

side, we defeated even their most advanced weapons.

Our victory had brought about a frenzied moment among us Amazons. Each

of us had been degraded, hurt, and had lost at least one of our family

members to the Japanese soldiers - we were only too happy to let out our

anger and bitterness on the invaders. We used their own inventions against

them, killing those Japanese men with their own methods of torture.

Then of course, there are always the more handsome ones that the village

women would have use for before killing them . . . thus, the law regarding

the Kiss of Love was written. But for the sake of keeping our law books

from being vulgar, we used the term marry instead of female-on-top

copulation. The fate of the man who has bested an Amazon woman is to be her

slave in whatever way she chooses, for whatever period of time that she

demands. She could even choose to kill him outright if the man was

unattractive by her standards.

Ranma . . . if only you knew how lucky you were that you managed to

bewitch Shampoo so.

But there was a price to be paid for the victory, as the elders and I

soon discovered the side effect of the youth potion, and why it was

forgotten in the first place. After a period of regained youth, the person

who takes the potion will grow old faster than a normal person. Within 10

years, the elders all died from old age, while I became an old woman that

was somehow older-looking than what my years warranted. By the time Shampoo

was old enough to know me as her great-grandmother, I was already a withered

crone that was shocking to the eye. Only my years of training kept that

wretched body strong and alive.

Back to the point. I was talking about Mousse, wasn't I?

At one point, the Japanese soldier that I had mentioned earlier was held

to the ground as a couple of the more aggressive warrior women took their

turns with him. The little bastard, who was mouthing such blasphemous words

against women just a day ago, was now shuddering in a most unmanly manner as

our warriors drained him endlessly for their own pleasure.

One of them, aggressive and foolishly without precautions, took the

longest time with him. It was almost as if she was using sexual dominance

of the man as an outlet for her anger and shame. They were quite a sight -

a half-crazed, ferocious woman, riding on top of a wide-eyed, traumatized

man grasping for breath. She was still riding on the Japanese man when he

died of exhaustion and physical injuries. His eyes, wide with madness and

hatred, were still open even as his last breath had left him.

Nine months later, Mousse's mother was born.

She took after her own mother, to such a point that people frequently

forgot that she was of Japanese ancestry. The mother, having soon

thereafter returned to her senses, was only too happy to get the twisted

mess behind her, as was the entire village. Everything was back to normal.

That is, until Mousse was born.

It really wasn't his fault that he resembled that Japanese soldier so

much. I knew that. But looking at him growing up, looking more and more

like his grandfather, was making many of those that had been through the war

uneasy, especially for those that had aided in the rape and murder of his

grandfather.

He wasn't loved by the older generation of the village. While they

didn't exactly hate him, they avoided him like the plague, only taking care

of him when it was of utmost necessity.

I have to admit that I, who had at one point held down the soldier as

the women warriors raped him, used to be one of them. Through his calm,

beautiful eyes, we were all forced to see what we had done in our revenge-

driven madness. We avoided him to hide from our memories of that disturbing

scene.

Mousse grew to be a quiet, reserved child. He was shy with children his

age, and was not close with anyone aside from his mother. As if surrounded

by an invisible layer of glass, he was unable to make contact with those in

the village. I used to pity him due to his loneliness.

That was, until I saw him beginning to hang around my great-

granddaughter. Everybody was amazed to see that Mousse could actually

LAUGH, and fool around like a normal child as long as his playmate was

Shampoo. The glass case holding him back was non-existent when he was with

her.

My rational side, as you modern people call it, was happy for Mousse to

have found a friend in the village at long last. It was also proud of the

fact that MY Shampoo was so brilliant that she could make friends with even

the most enigmatic of them all - surely she would have grown up to be a

beloved leader of the village.

My irrational side, however, was troubled by their increasing closeness.

It was convinced that through Mousse, that Japanese soldier would have his

revenge upon us. Whenever Shampoo took him to our home for meals, or just

to play their childish games, I, who was supposed to have mastered the art

of deception decades ago, always, always failed miserably in acting . . .

naturally around him. The two of them must have noticed it, for I once

heard the following conversation as my curiosity prompted me to spy on the

pair:

[Shampoo, why does your Hiba-chan dislike me?

[Silly Mousse! Hiba-chan doesn't dislike you!

[Her smile towards me . . . it looks so forced . . .

[Well, I . . . oh! You're just over-reacting! Hiba-chan always smiles

like this!

[Does she?

[Yeah . . .

[Shampoo . . . is it because I'm weak? Is it because I always lose to

the other boys in fights? Is that why none of the elders like me?

[Mousse! Don't say that! That's not true!

[Isn't it . . .?

[It . . . it isn't! I don't know about the other elders, but Hiba-chan

does not hate you! Otherwise, why would she let you come over to our

place?

[Well . . .

The children fell into an uneasy silence as I quietly left.

A little while after that time, Shampoo stopped inviting Mousse to our

house. I should have confronted Shampoo about it, and clear up this

misunderstanding before it got out of hand, but some urgent village concerns

distracted me from such seemingly trivial matters, and I soon forgot the

incident. After all, I used to think that the impressions of children are

of little importance, as nothing in their world was ever serious.

How wrong I was.

One afternoon, after a particularly exhausting debate session at the

Amazon Council, I decided to take a walk around the beautiful waterfall area

behind the village. The sound of the splashing water, together with the

sweet scent of the exotic weeds, had always succeed in washing away my

strain in the past. As I got nearer and nearer the stream, I heard a

familiar "AIYA!" echoing in the forest. Curious, I quietly crept up to the

behind the tall weeds of the waterfall, and took a peek to see what had

happened to my child.

And my heart froze.

Shampoo, her face dirty and her clothes torn, was pinned under HIM. The

blasphemous man. The cruelly handsome Japanese solder who had taunted our

women as he raped them mercilessly. The beautiful loser, who should have

died after being repeatedly raped by our women warrior, was now taking his

revenge on my child.

My innocent, faultless child . . .

[NOW who's the stronger one, huh? He asked while kissing her roughly.

The memory of the twisted ordeal flashed across my mind like a fierce

bolt of brazing white thunder. In a moment of primal fear and maddening

rage, I leapt out and hit the vengeful ghost over his head with my staff,

forcing him away from Shampoo . . .

And he fell off my child like a rag doll.

I turned to Shampoo, relieved, until I saw the fear and shock in her

eyes. I couldn't understand why she was staring at me as if I was suddenly

turning into some kind of hideous ghoul right before her eyes.

[What . . . have you done, Hiba-chan? What have you done to Mousse?!

Mousse? What about Mousse? He wasn't there . . .

. . . was he?

I slowly turned around, and saw the comatose body of the boy. His eyes

were rolled up into their sockets as foam formed at the corners of his open

mouth. Shampoo's voice became increasingly hysterical as she grabbed onto

my shoulders and shook me frantically:

[We were playing, Hiba-chan! PLAYING! We were playing and wrestling

and . . . and he kissed me . . . Hurt . . . You hurt him? YOU hurt HIM?!

Why? Why did you hurt him? Why? WHY? WE WERE PLAYING!! WHY DID YOU HURT

HIM?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! Hiba-chan, WHY?!

Trying to calm the racing of my heart, I hit the sleeping point on

Shampoo, and immediately got the children to the village doctor to be saved.

His mother was, of course, grief-stricken over this, and filed a lawsuit

against me. The members of the Amazon Council looked at me as if I were a

ghost. They questioned me, over and over again, to see WHY the honoured

Grand Matriarch of the village would have done something like that to a

defenceless, inferior, boy.

And I answered, over and over again, that it was because I caught him

trying to kiss Shampoo, and over-reacted.

I was determined that no one should know of the horrific vision I had

witnessed. I would have been deemed insane by the village then.

I was pretty sure that the council would have outcast me, if it wasn't

for my contribution in defending the village during the Second World War. I

merely got a thousand slashes for my crime, hardly anything that I couldn't

handle. I know now, from the series of events that occurred later, that

some of those in the council had deemed me unfit to be the Grand Matriarch

since then. My reputation as an intelligent, level-headed leader was

destroyed as of that day.

But all things considered, it was Shampoo who had given me the harshest

punishment of all, by totally ignoring me after getting over her shock. She

even ran away to stay with my brother, refusing to even let me go near her.

By using Mousse as his tool, the vengeful, Japanese monster had gotten

his revenge after all.

How I hate Japanese men.

I tried to make amends for what I'd done. I used my knowledge in magic

to heal the wounded boy as best as I could. Eventually, he woke up, none

the worse then he was before the accident . . .

. . . save for the fact that he couldn't see very well anymore.

The stunned look on Mousse's face after he opened his eyes would stay in

my mind for the rest of my life.

I made it my responsibility to train him as a warrior again, to overcome

his newly-impaired vision. I offered him two choices of style: the armed or

unarmed combat of my family line. In a rather flat voice, he replied:

[Armed combat . . . specializing in hidden weapons.

When I began to spar with him, his insistence on using real, sharpened

weapons that made it clear that he was trying to take his revenge upon me.

It was only his impaired vision and my century of training that kept me safe

from his vengeance.

He then began following me around, calling me names in public places,

hoping to agitate me, hoping that I'd lose control like the last time, that

I'd finally be expelled from the tribe. I was feeling too much guilt then

for it to affect me, and thankfully, the ghost never troubled me again.

Besides, the monotone in which he spoke with made his words more chilling

than insulting.

[Old Ghoul . . . why won't you answer me?

[Are you afraid?

[You know, the entire village is laughing at you behind your back.

[The most high-ranking matriarch, helpless against a mere boy's

taunting . . .

[They say you're starting to lose it, Dried Fish.

[That's why you attacked me in the first place, wasn't it? That's why a

century old matriarch would attack a child of thirteen, wasn't it?

[Hmmm? Why won't you answer me, Old Monkey? Afraid your teeth will

fall out if you ever open up your wrinkled lips?

Eventually, even his own mother felt ashamed at his behaviour, and

ordered him to stop embarrassing the Grand Matriarch like that. But he

wouldn't, and nobody in the village had the heart to stop a wronged boy from

doing what he wanted.

Not even myself, who was the one who had destroyed he who could have

been a happy child in the first place.

Ironically, it was Mousse's all too obvious hatred towards me that

obtained for me Shampoo's partial forgiveness. One day, he was testing my

patience again, taunting me in the village temple as I meditated.

Then, the miracle took place.

Shampoo, marching right up to the boy, ordered him to stop in a firm,

warrior's voice. To my surprise, he did, with a sheepish expression on his

face. Shampoo then ran towards me and gave me a teary hug, saying that I

shouldn't feel guilty over that incident anymore; that I had more than paid

for what I'd done; that if anyone should be blamed it should have been her.

I chided her for thinking that she was responsible. One thing led to

another and we, great-grandmother and daughter, took our first step towards

reconciliation.

As the two of us made our way back home, I heard distinctively the sound

of knuckles cracking from behind us, following us like a subtle curse.

Things began to go back to normal after that, with Shampoo once again

seeing me as her mother figure. I told her that it was okay if she wanted

to be friends with Mousse, and that I wasn't thinking very clearly when I

did what I'd done the last time. She asked me, in a tentative voice, if

that had to do with Mousse being weak. I denied it, for it was the truth.

Shampoo didn't seem too convinced, but for my sake she pretended to accept

my words.

Mousse had, of course, continued to chase after Shampoo. I swear by the

earth that I did nothing to prevent him from getting Shampoo's love.

However, I eventually came to realize that what Shampoo felt for him was

what she would have felt if she had had a brother. I even tried telling him

that myself, once. He didn't answer me.

I never did discover what had he told Shampoo afterwards, but after that

day, Shampoo seldom allowed herself to be seen together with him in my

presence.

Eventually, Shampoo's interest in Mousse dimmed, and she began to avoid

him. Part of the change may be attributed to the fact that he kept

mistaking shrubs, animals, and other not even remotely purple objects for

Shampoo, annoying the girl to no end. Mousse, however, only tried all the

harder to force her into loving him, usually with disastrous results.

Shampoo began to see him as a nuisance, and coldly rejected him whenever he

tried to pester her with his 'love'.

Throughout all this, true to my word, I did NOT interfere.

As his desperation grew, he even came to me, once. ME, who he hated,

who he would have sliced into ribbons if not for my superior skills, and yet

he came. He broke down crying, saying that it was because of his blindness

that Shampoo does not love him. Pinning me against a wall, he screamed:

[YOU! IT IS BECAUSE OF YOU THAT SHAMPOO WON'T LOVE ME! IF YOU HADN'T

ROBBED ME OF MY SIGHT, SHE WOULD HAVE GROWN TO LOVE ME! GIVE ME BACK MY

SHAMPOO! GIVE HER TO ME! MAKE HER LOVE ME AGAIN, YOU GHOUL! MAKE HER LOVE

ME AGAIN! MAKE HER! MAKE HER! MAKE HER LOVE ME!!

I remained wordless as he continued to hit me with his bare, weak hands

until he was exhausted. I would have given anything to him just to have him

happy again. But no, not Shampoo, not an innocent girl who, despite what

she believed, had nothing to do with his tragedy. If Mousse wished for more

compensation for his loss, it would have to be something from me and me

alone.

As fate would have it, Shampoo's first real love was Japanese.

I can still remember the day when he first came to our village, in his

cursed form. It was during a tournament - Shampoo had already fought

against at least 100 girls to get to the final match, but was still doing

remarkably well against Linji, one of the biggest girls of her generation,

much to my pride and the village's awe.

At that point, he . . . or rather, she, had matched straight up to the

prize of the village tournament together with that panda father of hers.

Without asking for permission to eat the food, or even how much the food was

going to cost, she and the Panda began wolfing it down in front of the

everybody's horrified eyes. The elders were especially disturbed: this was

reminding them too much of the Kenzan Kunoichi's challenge.

Shampoo, who had just won the race, was of course extremely angry, and

confronted the rude foreigner. To Shampoo's surprise, not only did she NOT

apologize, she told the Jusenkyo guide to tell Shampoo that she would

CHALLENGE Shampoo for the prize. The entire village was outraged. Shampoo

had spent the entire day fighting through countless battles just to make it

to the final match, which she had already won. That Japanese girl, still

fresh and untired (and recently re-energized by consuming the prize), had

the gall to challenge Shampoo at this point?

I had, of course, whispered to Shampoo not to accept such a ridiculous

challenge. But Shampoo, in her burning rage, wouldn't listen to me. When

she leapt up onto the sacred battle log, it was already too late for me to

interfere. Tired, and already not thinking clearly, she was easily kicked

off the log by the outsider, thus allowing the sacred prize of the village

to be . . . degraded . . . by that girl - that Japanese girl.

That day, the Amazon Village was insulted in a way it had not seen since

the Second World War.

Having no other way to make up for her mistake and save face for the

Village, Shampoo did the only thing that she could: she became the first to

use the law of the Kiss of Death. The entire village watched in shock as

Shampoo kissed the foreign girl, thus putting her life on the line to

salvage the village's honour.

And just like the last time, I was unable to stop the disaster from

occurring. I had wanted to go with her, to at least aid her in this

seemingly impossible mission. Shampoo could NOT kill anyone; she lacked the

required ruthlessness. Frankly, I hoped she never had to. By offering to

go along with with her, I was hoping that I would be the one doing the dirty

deed. After all, I had slaughtered dozens of Japanese invaders in World War

II - what more was one insolent Japanese kid? But Shampoo had insisted that

she should go alone.

[Hiba-chan! If I can't even carry out an Amazon Law, how can I ever

hope to be a Matriarch?

I hated myself then for letting that law come to pass.

And so, Shampoo went on her quest, and we lost contact with her for

about two months.

After that time, just as I had predicted, Shampoo came back in tears,

saying that she had been unable to carry out the law.

The law that she had taken upon herself in front of the entire village.

[Hiba-chan . . . I can't. I've failed the village.

Those in the council who had lost faith in me since the incident with

Mousse seized the opportunity. They used Shampoo's failure in her vow to

attack my position in the council. Shampoo, knowing how things had gone

between the council and I, became a complete wreck as she blamed herself for

the council's attack on me. Mousse was by her side during that difficult

time, and served well in calming her. Despite his obsessive nature, I had

to give him credit for always being there for Shampoo when she needed it.

After three days of hellish, almost non-stop debating at the council, we

reached an agreement:

If I was to redeem Shampoo's honour by training Shampoo to be a better

warrior, then all could be forgiven for both of us.

The designated training ground was Jusenkyo.

After the first sparring session, Shampoo was cursed with a cat's body.

The added insight about the nature of the cursed pools made her realise the

truth behind her challenger's condition, that her target was a MALE.

Shampoo then surprised me with a determined look that could only belong to

an Amazon as she said the following words in the serious tone of an adult:

[If Ranma truly is a man . . . then my groom he shall be.

From then, it was only a short time before we made our way to Japan,

together, this time, and...

But the rest of what WE have done is already known. As for the

others...

How should I describe Ranma Saotome?

In the beginning, I only knew him as a fighter. His power came from his

ability to rapidly think up both offensive and defensive moves to use upon

an opponent. His skills, honed by an unloving father who valued him only

for his martial arts ability, were quite marvelous for that of someone his

age. However, none of the harsh, suicidal training methods that he had been

through, not even that ridiculous Cat-Fu, had prepared him to be a TRULY

refined martial artist like Kirin or Herb. Herb, before his madness, that

is. Ranma, with all his combat abilities, had remained an unjaded warrior.

And so, I tested his worthiness by seeing if he was able to pick up the

Kachu Tenshin Amaguriken.

He succeeded, earning my respect for him as a potential match for

Shampoo, yet I couldn't help but feel that he hated me ever since then for

trying to 'force' him into marrying Shampoo.

Ho, Ranma, if only you knew how naively egotistic you were.

He had been through quite a few major crises in his life. Knowing of

Shampoo's love for him, and thinking that he would one day be my in-law, I

tried to gain his trust by unconditionally helping him out in most, if not

all those times. I think he started to forgive me after I taught him the

Hiryuu Shoten Ha, but I can't be too sure. Anyway, after that time, he and

his Japanese fiancee dropped their guards enough to eat at my restaurant

often without fearing that I'd drug them. Of course, that was also due to

the fact that the idea of eating real Chinese food for free is tempting to

the majority of the Japanese population.

There was a time in my life when I thought that boy was fairly likable

despite his Japanese blood. I used to wonder how such a wonderful boy could

have come from such a wretched, selfish father. That was . . . before I

began to see him as a man rather than a fighter.

He was a . . . manipulator of women that I haven't seen since Happosai

last visited the Amazon village ages ago. While openly refusing my

great-granddaughter's requests to go on dates, he kept hanging around her of

his own volition. To get what he had wanted from her, be it the instant man

spring or the hypnotic scent, Ranma would promise Shampoo dates or flowers

or other such worthless things that were crucial to a young woman's life.

After he had obtained what he sought, he would brazenly go back on his words

and leave the girl in a thousand shattered pieces that were left to me to

put together.

I can see that now: to him, Shampoo, Ukyou . . . even to some extent,

Kodachi, were but pawns to be used to serve his own purposes. They were

important to him only when they've got something to offer - magical

artifacts, free food, financial assistance, or simply a helping hand in

battle. After they'd served his purpose, it was Akane that he always

returned to. The fact that those three had kept coming back for more only

boosted his ego, making him think that it was okay to continue to treat them

as his tools. In fact, I bet that he didn't even once feel guilty about it:

he didn't even know it was wrong.

But still, his beautiful smile, his seemingly innocent strong-headedness

and his fearlessness in physical battles had masked all these from everyone,

even myself. To all normal eyes, he appeared to be a harmlessly

mischievous, yet righteous boy, the kind that girls fawn on and women smile

at. It wasn't until the incident with the Reversal Jewel that I appreciated

just how . . . far he could go when it came to satisfying his Japanese male

pride.

He, who had been ridiculing Shampoo's overtly aggressive pursuit of him

behind the poor girl's back, was now vowing to get her to love him again.

It wasn't because he had fallen in love with Shampoo all of a sudden. No,

it was because he needed Shampoo's attentions to satisfy himself, to make

him feel good, to get people to admit how popular he was.

I then realized that despite all his attractiveness, he was almost as

selfish as that Japanese father of his. Suddenly, it all made perfect sense

to me. Just as his father had stolen young girls' dowries with lies, he had

robbed our village's prize with taunts. Just as his father had manipulated

him for his selfish gains, he had manipulated the women around him to serve

his own purposes. Just as his father had fled from his wife due to his

inability to gain honour, he had hidden his feelings from Akane Tendo from

addiction to what his 'outer fiancees' provided for him. He, with his

beautiful form and lithe grace, was still, undeniably, his father's son.

There is only ONE kind of punishment fitting for a man of his kind. He

wanted to get Shampoo to love him? Then I'd have him marry her. Once

married, by Amazon law, he would have to obey Shampoo as his superior. He

was going to make Shampoo a happy for the rest of his life, whether he liked

it, or not. Otherwise, Shampoo would take another man as her head husband,

demoting him to the status of concubine, which was really but another term

for house-servant. And should he prove to be . . . difficult, the law

allowed for he application of righteous discipline. For once, Shampoo would

be a winner in their relationship. I would make sure of it.

I can't tell you how . . . disappointed I was when my plan backfired at

the last minute. My only solace was that Shampoo seemed to be taking it

better that I though she would.

Things seemed to calm down for a while, as they always did before a

storm. Shampoo was soon her perky and playful self again, going after Ranma

with all the vigour of a lovesick young woman. Ranma, after regaining

Shampoo's love, had once again found it to be something that he could afford

to ignore and stamp on. If it weren't for the fact that Shampoo truly cared

for him, I would have dosed out some serious punishment to that impertinent

boy.

Well, eventually, I guess I did after all.

Business had been soaring at the Nekohanten for the next two months,

largely due to the fact that the other Chinese restaurant in the area was

moving away to downtown Tokyo. After saving up enough extra money, I

managed to surprise my Shampoo with a gift that I knew she had always

wanted.

It was a extraordinarily beautiful western-style gown, one that I have

many times seen Shampoo drooling over from outside its glass window at an

elegant but expensive boutique. When she rose from her futon and found the

stylishly wrapped package lying right on her table, she practically AIYA-ed

with glee. I then went into the room with a smile, and before I could even

get a word out, she was already there, hugging me and thanking me like an

excited child. Heh, if I had known that she had wanted the dress THAT much,

I would have gotten it for her a long time ago.

She then asked me if she could take the morning off just to show off

that dress to everybody. I smiled, knowing exactly who that 'everybody' was

going to be. I told her that a gown like that was only supposed to be worn

at parties. But she persisted, and seeing no harm in it, I gave her an

entire day off just to do whatever she like with her new treasure. After

all, what harm could it have done?

I doubt she has ever been as happy since then.

After Shampoo put on the gown, I finally realized why that package had

cost such an astronomical sum in the first place. First, for the sake of

decency, a flesh-toned one-piece suit, which came with the package, had to

be worn. Then, the violet, half-translucent gown was to be put on. It

amazed me that something that lose and tender could have managed to hug a

woman's body in all the right places, turning it into a work of art. I

guess the money was more well-spent than I had originally thought.

I added the finishing touches for her by curling up her free-falling

long hair into elaborate locks and putting on her make-up. By the time we

were done, my great-granddaughter was transformed from a pretty little

nymphet into a stunning goddess that could make any great-grandmother proud.

I must have been smiling from ear to ear as Shampoo waltzed through the

restaurant into the streets, stunning every male and female customer into

freezing as she passed by gracefully. Mousse, after, putting on his glasses

and taking a look at her, became too dazed to work for the rest of the day.

That night, while I was cleaning up from behind the counter, Shampoo

quietly slipped through the doors and hurried up into her room before I

could take a good look at her. It didn't take a genius to figure out that

something had gone wrong.

It took me ten minutes to get the girl to open up the door for me, with

her head lowered. I lifted her chin and saw something that turned my blood

cold.

On one side of Shampoo's face was a scarlet, rather large hand-print

that seemed to be burning against the surrounding pale, skin. She looked

away from me as tears of shame flowed down her cheeks and onto my withered,

trembling hand.

[I . . . I went to the Tendo Dojo. I tried looking for Ranma, but Akane

won't let me. She . . . she was jealous, calling me a slut for wearing the

gown . . . I was angry, and we fought. Before I could hit her . . .

someone slapped me. Ranma . . . it was him . . . he said that he had had

enough. He . . . never want to see me at their dojo again . . . he . . .

he never did tell me how I look in this dress . . .

And she broke down crying, no longer able to go on.

As Amazons, we had all gotten our fair share of bruises in the past.

But . . . a slap? From a MALE?! Unthinkable.

I looked at my child, my painfully perfect child, suffering again and again

at that hands of that boy . . . no, that Japanese man, and I knew then that

SOMEONE had had enough. And it wasn't him: no, not by a long shot.

The deathly calm that had hung over me for the next few days must have

been quite evident. Even Mousse, who had always taunted me with ease, had

kept his mouth shut around me. Shampoo, after getting over her own

heartache, had timidly muttered to me time after time that the fault was on

her, that I shouldn't be angry with Ranma, that she was sure that she could

have worked things out with him.

Of course the fault didn't lie with Ranma, for he had played the passive

victim so well that even I have to give him credit for his performance. By

stringing along half a dozen women with light promises and insincere

compliments, he had only to sit back and relax as they fought each other

like cats and dogs while he himself remaining guiltless all the while. As

long as it didn't touch Akane, his 'uncute, sexless tomboy', it was but an

amusing game for him.

Very well, little one. Two can play at the game of puppet-mastering,

providing that we've got the right tools.

A week later, my tool had conveniently made his way into my plan. My

first love, later to become my first hate: such bitter irony. The years had

taken away much of his cuteness, as well as his guard against hidden traps

and subtle dangers. Perhaps it had to do with his inhuman accomplishment in

the Art through a century of training? Either way, it was fine with me, for

after the whole thing was over with, he would be the one taking the fall,

not I.

Or so I thought.

He came to me for advice on how to "teach that Ranma punk a lesson".

I gave him the scroll with instructions on how to summon one of the most

powerful spirits of Jusenkyo. I wrote it in large, simple kanji, so that

even someone like the senile old fool wouldn't mix up the procedures.

For shattering the love that Shampoo had offered him, Ranma would be

punished. After this encounter, he would find himself humbled as he

realized just HOW inferior he was when compared to even the ghost of a true

Chinese warrior. I would have done it myself, if Shampoo had not held me

back.

Some time later, the eldest Tendo daughter informed us of Ranma's death.

I hadn't anticipated that he would be tactless enough to allow himself

to die. Hurt, maybe, but to actually get killed? That just wasn't his

style. If he survived battles with Kumon Ryu and so many other ruthless

fighters, how could he possibly get killed? Unthinkable.

To my horror and disbelief, Shampoo's sanity began collapsing as I

watched. Her eyes, once bright and sparkling with mischief, were now as

vacant as that of the Kasumi girl. No, even more so. Kasumi tried to slap

Shampoo back into sanity, as the latter babbled mindlessly about cleaning up

the mess on the floor.

Why, Shampoo? He was but one in a thousand. He was good, but not THAT

good! He died so easily! And he was spawned of such a shameful,

dishonourable father and honour-driven, brick-brained mother. Shampoo, how

could you . . . actually allow yourself to be hurt over him? I tried saying

something, anything that would stop her descent into insanity. I don't

remember clearly what I said, but it was something to the effect of "Be

strong, and put this behind you."

What came out must have been much worse than what I was aiming for, for

Shampoo abruptly whirled around towards me with something that I could NEVER

have imagined on her sweet, beautiful face: hatred. It was the same deep,

pure hatred that I'd felt when Happosai had left me, a century ago; in the

Japanese soldier's eyes while I was pinning him down for the others to enjoy

him; on Mousse's pale face as he taunted me. The same kind of hatred that

had always haunted me in the back of my mind was now pasted over Shampoo's

contoured, no longer beautiful face as she glared into my eyes. I stared

helplessly at the hatred on her face, unable to look away. Oh, to the

powers that be, please just let me look away-, I thought.

It turned out I didn't have to after all, as Shampoo's hands darted

toward my eyes, and afterwards . . .

Darkness.

A locked door, blocking out unpleasant thoughts of the unknown

future . . .

A comforting wall, guarding me from the turmoil of the present . . .

A stained-glass window, failing miserably to block out the faces of the

men in my past . . .

. . . the men who've bested me and my kind . . .

. . . the men from Japan.

For too many years I've lived in the dark, no longer caring about

anything other than having my body decay enough that I could die of natural

causes: those foolish enough to take their own lives are cursed to walk the

earth 'til the end of eternity. And so, I remained. Alive.

When a butterfly is without its wings, it is not only deprived of

flight, but also turned into a helpless, ugly worm that is no longer able to

attract . . . yet very capable of repulsion.

I, who had already lost my eyes, had no idea just how true that was

until Doctor Ono Tofu paid me a visit. The feeling of nausea radiating from

that man was so strong that I had to keep myself very much in control to not

lose my dignity and snap at him like a mad woman right there and then. The

fact that he, despite his Japanese origin, had more loyalty to his wife than

even an Amazon male, was the only thing that had allowed me to act THAT

civilly with him.

After that day, I realized that I couldn't possibly keep on living that

way any longer. I also realized that old and twisted as it was, my overtly

well-trained body wasn't going to leave this world anytime soon on its own.

Tonight, I've made a bet with myself . . . no, with Japan itself:

Shall this cursed body still live after this midnight, the cask of

spring of drowned youth that I've kept with me all these years shall finally

came to use. When it does, I shall be as I was once . . . no, much more

powerful than what I was once. Then, for all that Shampoo and I've suffered

through, the men of this country shall pay for it tenfold . . . a

hundred-fold . . . no, a thousand-fold.

Oh, how I hate Japanese men.

END NIKUMI


	13. The Vengance of Heaven

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

[2032

The building shook with the force of the explosion, fire

fountaining into the night sky. The force of the blast blew out

windows within 200 feet and shook the entire block.

Alarms went off all over, people suddenly swarming the street

to see just what had happened. Fiery debris rained down around then,

scattering them to hide in the safety of the buildings they had just

run out of.

Almost as abruptly as it had happened, it was over, and the

only thing left was the fire still flickering at the top of what was

left of the Kunou Foundation building.

The sound of fire emergency vehicles filled the streets as

they rushed to save what they could of the possibly the most important

building in the world.

The news the next day was solemn, the anchors nearly in tears.

People all over Japan, all over the world mourned as the terrible news

traveled the globe.

The Global Saviour, Kunou Tatewaki, was dead.

The Vengeance of Heaven

by Lara Bartram

Edited by 4cw6

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

R2096 characters and situations used with permission. Takahashi's aren't.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"In youth he had felt the hidden beauty and ecstasy of things, and

had been a poet; but poverty and sorrow and exile had turned his

gaze in darker directions, and he had thrilled at the imputations of

evil in the world around."

-H.P. Lovecraft

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lights and sound and heat swirled around him in a chaotic

mess. She hadn't seen him, and for that, he was grateful. He still

needed, wanted her, but the desire was lessened. He knew she would

not be happy to see him again, that she wouldn't understand all that

had happened.

He hadn't had the chance to give her an appropriate farewell,

but... Before he could reflect on his regrets, there was that sensory

chaos again.

Strange. He didn't know it was possible for ghosts to fall to

unconsciousness.

It wasn't so much awakening. It was more... return of

awareness. Though, that didn't help much either. The chaos was still

there, but this time, it was rushing all around him, through him. It

was... confusing at first. There was so much, too much, for him to

understand.

Streams of information flew in all directions, some

concentrated into blue beams, while others seemed to meander by in

less concentrated, nebulous clouds.

Being in this less than solid form, incorporeal,

insubstantial, was liberating. So much more versatile. Versatile

and, finally, free. Finally free of the shackles they had put on him,

that he had put on himself. He was finally free to do things the way

he wanted; free to do the things he wanted, even if it meant he would

spend eternity like this.

It was clear to him that ghosts were not simply left-over thoughts,

desires, dreams, or even simply souls... There was a power in being a

ghost, one which Akane had obviously never explored. He could feel it

pulsing through him. Maybe it was that desire that chained him to the

earth, maybe it was that power, or maybe it was his burning need for

vengeance. Either way, he would not fail to use the power bestowed

upon him.

When the next stream of information struck his form, he didn't

resist its pull, and let it carry him off to some part of the network

to truly reclaim his rightful leadership of the Kunou Foundation.

There was no way Kyoofu could have the complete and utter

control he had now. Where they had controlled him, he now controlled

them. The puppet and puppet-master had switched positions, and the

puppets didn't even know it.

Oh, how he would make them pay.

It was true, he could admit it, that he wasn't always the

fastest thinker in the world. Maybe if he had been, it wouldn't have

been so easy for Gosunkugi to take advantage of him. He would have

certainly tried to make it more difficult. But that time was gone.

That time was gone, and now it was his time. It wasn't

possible to start right away, as he was quite unfamiliar with the

surroundings, and his limits and capabilities. If he had known this

would happen, he would have asked Akane more about being a ghost.

Yet, that would have seemed tacky and uncalled for. And that

was one thing that had changed as he had grown older: he was able to

see many of the things he wasn't before. Things that hurt him deeply,

but he couldn't deny them.

The worst, no matter how much he desired the pig-tailed girl,

was Akane. Naturally, he had been enraged to discover Ranma had been

the pig-tailed girl, but it was the rage of humiliation. And Akane...

To be denied the only thing he had ever sought after, wanted, needed

with his entire being... He had been devastated.

His illusions had been shattered and he was left an empty and

bitter man, still yearning for the affection of a girl who could never

give it to him.

But now. Now, he had purpose again. He didn't have Akane,

but he had a piece of her, the show of her feelings for him. That she

could actually be compassionate toward him after all that had happened

in the past and actually give that small part of herself...

Well, while his own wants and desires were first, as long as he

knew she still wandered the physical realm, he would try to do his

best to help her. Help her, make her own vengeance come to fruition.

Even if it meant revenge for Saotome, he could not deny her.

It felt like he traveled along the stream for an entire day,

which he could not abide by. The whole place seemed to warp the very

concept of time, and that simply would not do. Perhaps it was time to

start testing out his abilities and find what he was truly capable of.

After all, he was sure the most intelligent engineers were currently

maintaining the system, and the power available to him was probably

close to limitless.

Concentrating on his simple desire to know what time it was,

he reached out into the streams and felt. Felt it all pass through

him until... There. Like a fever-induced hallucination, a huge clock

appeared before him, wavering the air. Interesting.

And now to find out where he was exactly. It was the first

time he wished he had really learned how the whole Kunou Foundation

computer system was set up. He knew it controlled a bit of everything

all over, but exactly what, he had no idea. And where to begin?

What could he do to hurt them? What could he do to make them

pay?

The clock was always floating around him, the silent movement

of the hands almost audible to him. It was a reminder of the what was

left of the world before Kyoofu and Tofu had complete control of it

slowly counting down. Short of murder, he didn't honestly think he'd

be able to stop that. He couldn't destroy everything.

He traveled in random paths, getting an interesting picture of

the system. There was one spot he could sit and monitor the entire

city, or the workings of the Kunou Foundation. He could watch when

people got paid, when someone was given a traffic ticket, when

employees arrived late for work, when people checked their e-mail, and

just what that e-mail was... None of it was a secret to him.

Not even...

Security meant nothing to him. He was not some data packet

trying to slip through. He was not a piece of information. He was

not a part of the system. He WAS the system. What higher clearance

was afforded than to him, the Global Saviour, his very soul? None.

And there, all their precious records and data. All their

tests and formulas and torture methods... Tofu's private notes even,

detailing... everything. Private notes. They were his dirty secrets.

Those little nuggets that Tofu thought safe from prying eyes were not

safe from him. One e-mail, that was all it took.

He grabbed onto it, taking it into his form, becoming one with

it so it would stay with him forever and eternally feed his hatred.

He would never forget why he was doing these things, never forget his

need for vengeance. Never.

Never would he forget the words Kyoofu and the good doctor had

exchanged about slowly pulling the rug out from underneath him, how

stupid they thought he was, how insane his sister was, the entire

family line, the blackmail, in perfect clarity... It was all there.

It would be the cause of their pain.

Another test. He had gotten in, but could he get out again?

Not that he really wanted to, but it was a good thing to know. The

limits of his power of manifestation were important to be aware of.

There were so many aspects of his new existence to explore so he would

know just how much he could torment those that had killed him.

He bumped around like a person in a dark room, trying to find

an exit. If it was only through exposed wires, that could be a

problem. Yet, he controlled it all, and could do that if necessary.

In fact... A wavering, half-formed map of everything he knew about

the system appeared, which he then overlaid with the plans of the

main Kunou Foundation buildings.

He wasn't totally sure what he'd do with that type of access,

but then, he couldn't say when it would come in handy either. And he

could always... arrange more if necessary.

No sense in getting ahead of himself... There, in an

electrical closet, were a batch of currently unused connections,

awaiting usage in the newest dorms at the University. Perfect.

Getting there and knowing how to get there were two completely

different things though. Even though it took less than the time it

takes to blink an eye to arrive, the fact that he ended up someplace

he didn't want to be was the problem. Everything in life (or

afterlife) being a learning experience, he made note on his map where

this control room was.

Ending up there had been like running down a tiny hall only to

emerge into the Taj Mahal. The area was cavernous. But empty. It

wasn't in use yet, but it was obvious that this would be a place of

great importance considering where it was situated.

And where it was situated, the dorms shouldn't have been too

far away. Leaving the space in a vaguely eastwardly direction, he

finally found his way to the closet. And while it had seemed like an

hour in his reality, it had scarcely been five minutes.

The concept was strange. Take something that is ethereal and

visualize it. Simple, but strange. How was he supposed to visualize

it? What form should it take? It didn't matter. Just... do... it.

The hazy landscape before him seemed to ripple, and popping

into clarity, a giant sized version of an old-style network hub

appeared. It would take only moments for him to know if it worked or

not.

He pushed his essence into the image of the hub, through it,

expecting any moment to be stopped in his efforts. But he wasn't. It

was like he was squeezing through a window just a few inches too

small, but he was soon free and...

All the sensations of the "living" world were upon him once

again. It was something he never thought he'd have to go through once

he had left it all behind. Left it all behind, only to reach back

desperately for it and hold onto it with all his strength. Fear,

revenge, madness, love... lust. For all those reasons, he had stayed.

For the first time, he was overcome with doubt. Standing

alone with nothing, even if he was a ghost, he was suddenly lost.

There was no one that could possibly understand his pain and torment,

all the things that had driven him to be in the position he was...

None of them knew. None of them understood. None of them cared.

They had never cared.

[2033

Ellison Meadows, Ellie to her friends, was a practical girl.

A practical young woman. College was not something to be taken

lightly, and not when she was attending a very prestigious university

half way around the world.

To think that she, out of all the others, had been given the

school scholarship to come to Japan and study at the University of

Tokyo. It wasn't so much the University itself as the reputation the

university held. It was where the Global Saviour had attended, and it

was the school that was reaping the rewards of his untimely passing.

From a terrorist's bomb. It seemed that true world peace was

a lie, and that it might never be accomplished. Who could have

possibly wanted to kill the man who had done so much for the world?

Politics and religion aside, he had done so much...

She opened a door to the new and unfinished dorm, and headed

down to the access tunnels. It was the shortest way from her current

dorm to the building where her non-Euclidian geometry class was,

especially in the rain showers that had developed that morning.

Clearing her damp hair from her face, Ellie walked quickly

through the "tunnels" the length of the building. She always felt a

bit nervous about using the underground short-cut, but lots of students

did it and no one seemed to mind. The doors had never been locked,

and nobody had ever discouraged the use of the tunnels...

This time, Ellie felt more than the usual nervousness though.

Maybe it was from being alone with no one nearby. There could have

been some sort of... Criminal? That should have been the last person

hiding in the half-built Kunou Hall. But there was always that

nagging worry in the back of her mind. If there were terrorists who

actually had the nerve to blow up the top floors of the Kunou

Foundation executive building, then surely there could be some petty

thief hiding in the basement of this building.

Inhaling sharply, Ellie picked up her pace. Still she had

only walked half the length of the hall and...

From out of a door... from THROUGH a door, a figure stepped

that brought Ellie to a stop. It was a man, his body slightly

translucent and surrounded by a deep blue aura, and if Ellie's eyes

weren't deceiving her...

He looked down to the right of the hallway he had stepped

into. So this was the hall they had named in his honour. A dorm was a

dorm, he didn't expect much of anything special. He turned to look to

his left down the hall and was brought up short by the girl standing

there, staring at him.

There was no mistaking it. She was staring at him. Her mouth

worked, opening and closing, and she started backing away from him.

Suddenly, Ellie knew she was in trouble. There was no way

she should be seeing this... this ghost? A ghost of... Ellie

blinked.

The ghost was standing there, looking at her. He seemed

surprised too. It was just... downright weird. It was him. There

was no mistaking it. A ghost of Tatewaki Kunou? Ellie crumpled to the

floor in a dead faint.

He looked curiously at her inert form on the floor. Strange

that she would faint, but maybe not that strange. He approached her,

just to make sure she was okay, but he also felt a morbid wonderment

at seeing someone who was actually... alive. Funny, he never felt this

way when he was alive, but then, things were different back then.

Kneeling next to the girl, a student he would guess from the

bag she was carrying and the UT sweat-shirt she was wearing, he peered

at her as if she were some sort of alien. A foreigner, a girl, and

quite unconscious. And now what was he supposed to do? He couldn't

just leave her here like this.

He reached out to touch her hand with his, not entirely sure

what would happen when their two "bodies" met. At the last moment,

his aura caressing her skin, he hesitated. But his curiosity got the

better of him. He had felt the firmity of Akane's hand at the end,

and that strange tingling warmth that her touch seemed to radiate.

Had that been her, or him? Did her aura do that, or was it

just his imagination? He had to do this. He had to test his limits.

There was no other way he'd know, and if he was to end up spending

eternity like this...

It was a gentle touch at first, though it wasn't even really a

touch. His fingers traced the surface of the girl's hand, feeling to

him like some sort of warm rubbery gelatin. He applied a bit more

pressure, so to speak, and pushed his fingers into, through the girl's

skin.

There. Life. Flowing... He could feel it. Flowing inside

of her, through him. Truly it was one of the things that could not be

appreciated until it was gone. Appreciated... He plunged the rest of

his hand into the girl and felt the life flow through, inside his arm.

He closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the sensation. How he

wished he had known about this, could experience it before he had

died. If Gosunkugi or Ono knew about it, they'd be killing people

left and right to bottle and sell it. It was the literal meaning of

having someone else's life in your hands.

It wasn't enough. He withdrew his arm and felt the pangs of

regret as the feeling subsided. Situating himself, hoping no one did

come down the hall and find the unconscious girl, he laid down on top

of her, going inside her. Too far.

The feeling was glorious. This was better than being alive.

He could even... Something tugged at him, pulled at his essence,

pushed him, then the feeling started to fade. What was happening?

Why was it stopping? Was the girl dying?

And then darkness. The hallway had faded to leave darkness.

The feeling of the girl's life had gone to be replaced by...

comforting warmth, cocoon-like and sheltering. What was going on?

What had he done?

Something in his mind stirred. His mind? He was not composed

of parts like mind and body any longer; he was a single entity. Any

feeling in his "mind" was felt throughout his entire self. But no,

this was something in his mind. He had done something wrong, very

wrong.

He tried to move, and there was the sensation, limitation that

he thought he had discarded. There was weight to his body. And the

darkness must mean...

He opened his eyes for the first time in he didn't know how

long. And when he saw the ceiling of the access tunnel, it all became

crystal clear. The stirring in his mind again, and this time, it was

uncomfortably clear just what that stirring was.

It was the girl, trying to fight him.

'Forgive me. I will relinquish your body soon enough.' Life

was tempting, but not that tempting. This was just a joy ride, not

something he would make permanent... if it was even possible.

Besides, this body, the body of the girl was not to his taste. If,

for some reason, he planned on taking on a permanent body, it would be

male, first thing, and it would have to be powerful, physically fit.

Sure, the girl was probably fine in her own right, but how

could the Global Saviour re-emerge in such a... dainty condition? Fine

in its own right, but unacceptable.

He stood on shaky legs, the sensations unfamiliar after what

seemed like years in an environment he had almost complete control of.

Now he was at the whims of the natural environment, a fairly frightening

prospect for him.

He looked left and right, feeling the body react to his mental

commands, each muscle, tendon, bone working... It was an incredible

effort to actually make the body (his body for the time being) move

with short, stiff steps.

Everything felt wrong, but what could he expect in a borrowed

body? He could only work with what he had. At the moment, this body

was his to deal with and he wasn't having a very good time of it. In

truth, he was afraid that if he got too comfortable, he'd want to

stay.

Not necessarily in the girl's body, but in the living world.

He wasn't sure he could deal with that again. But that raised another

interesting question... if the body he possessed died, what would

happen to him?

Would he get a second chance to leave the mortal world or

would he just be kicked out of the body? An interesting question

indeed, but one he didn't plan on discovering the answer to for quite

some time, if ever.

Instead of letting himself become comfortable in the body, he

maintained the awkward carriage. It was how he assured himself that

he was separate from the girl and wouldn't be tempted.

Down the hall he walked, slowly, almost painfully. He

struggled up the stairs and found himself outside in the clean air

again. It was better the second time around, now able to appreciate

the freedom he hadn't known in the waning years of his life.

The rain was coming down gently on him, and he closed his

eyes. Lifting his face to the sky, he felt the moisture as it hit his

skin. The elation he felt was short-lived as he realized this was all

a false existence for him.

He was a ghost and would never know what it was like to be

truly alive again. A sudden scowl on his face, Tatewaki wiped the

rain-water from himself and pushed aside idle thoughts of things more

pleasant.

He didn't even know why he was bothering. This world wasn't

for him, not any longer. It was filled with memories of things he

wished had never happened, things... people... ghosts of his past.

"Ellie! What are you doing standing there in the rain?"

Looking automatically at the person who had called out, not

realizing they were actually calling out to him, Tatewaki spied a

group of what appeared to be fellow students about to enter a

building. They waved at her.

"Hurry, Ellie! You're gonna miss class otherwise!" one young

man called out.

Curious, Tatewaki made his way to the group of students who he

assumed to the be the young lady's friends. They quickly filed into

the building and into one of the big auditoriums.

They all took their seats, whispering to each other, with

seconds to spare as the lights dimmed and the day's lesson appeared on

the huge display wall at the front of the auditorium.

Watching with amazement and disbelief, Tatewaki couldn't

comprehend any of what was going on. The concepts were completely

foreign to him, mind-boggling in their complexity. He hadn't touched

anything nearly so complex when he had been in college.

The class didn't end soon enough for him, and as the lights

slowly raised, Tatewaki couldn't wait to escape from the torture room.

"Hey, Ellie, are you going to see your boyfriend later?"

another young man asked her. The question was followed by some

good-natured giggling.

Tatewaki looked at him strangely, not having a clue what he

was talking about. That was the problem. He was in control of the

body but had no knowledge that the owner of the body did. If someone

had asked him what node controlled the timed locks of the University's

administrative offices, he could have answered that without a problem.

This girl's boyfriend? No clue.

"Are you feeling OK, Ellie?" a girl asked as they exited the

building.

He shrugged in response. "So-so."

"You don't look so good. Maybe you should just go back to the

dorm," the original young man asked, looking at him worriedly.

Tatewaki shook his head. "I'll... live." It appeared that

there was something unspoken the young man was considering, but he

said nothing further.

"If you're sure..."

"I am."

The young man nodded his head. "OK, well, we better get to

class. You remember what today is, don't you?" he asked, mood

changing from concerned to excited.

Tatewaki shook his head.

Another girl grabbed his arm. "How could you forget? This is

the chapter we've been waiting for all semester!"

"Yeah, 21st Century History wouldn't be complete without the

section on the Global Saviour!"

"My mom met him once, at a rally in... what was it? I don't

know, 2028 or so," another young woman said, almost wistfully.

"That's so cool. Let's go so we can get good seats!" the

young man said, and, grabbing Tatewaki's arm, began jogging off to the

building their class was in.

The others followed, still talking about what might be

discussed in their class, beginning their own banter about the now

deceased Global Saviour.

"How popular is he in America?" the second man asked Tatewaki.

"Is there a lot of stuff about him over there?"

"Er... I don't..."

"The government over there is nothing but a bunch of

tyrannical fascists," a shrill-voiced woman said from the back of the

bunch.

Several of the others turned and gave her cross looks.

"Oh, uh, sorry about that, Ellie. That's what I heard in my

Comparative Government of the Americas class," she apologized lamely.

"Man, Hiroko, can you be much more rude?"

"It's not my fault that's what Mr. Kawamoto said. I think

he's got a serious chip on his shoulder."

"Gee, do ya think?"

"Not much," another girl said and snickered.

"Oh, can it, 'Neko-chan'."

"Ladies! Can both of you just shut up for five minutes?" the

man pulling Tatewaki along said.

"Yes, Gaku-chan," they replied in unison and began giggling.

"Please, PLEASE don't call me that," he said, his cheeks red

with embarrassment. "My name is Manabu, not Gaku-chan, or Bu-chan..."

"Yes, Gaku-chan," they repeated, laughing even more.

He was saved by the group arriving at the building their class

was in. Slowing down to a fast walk, the group entered the building

through the classical double doors and made their way down the hall.

The auditorium was about a quarter full and filling up slowly.

The best seats had already been filled, but there were some decent

ones three rows back available still.

The group all filed in and sat, their whispering joining the

rest that filled the large speaking hall. As the others all got out

their books and notes, Tatewaki turned and looked at the rest of the

auditorium.

It was huge, appearing to hold at least a thousand people.

This couldn't have been just a lecture hall, not when it was this

size. There had to be some alternate purpose for it.

"I hear the later classes are screwed because the KF limited

the available information to only 2500 copies," Minaro whispered to

the rest of the group. "We got our copies, same with the second

class, but only about half the third class did, and the rest got

jack."

"That's the price you pay for not being able to wake before 2

in the afternoon," Hiroko whispered, earning chuckles from the rest.

It took about 15 minutes for the auditorium to fill; there

were no late-comers as the professor took his place at the front and

waited a few moments for everyone to quiet down.

"Good to see you all today," he said, his voice amplified to

be clearly audible for everyone. "This class appears much more filled

out than usual. I'd almost think it was an exam day."

There was scattered laughter as many guilty parties tried to

blow off the implication.

"Today we will begin our section on who has come to be

commonly referred to as the Global Saviour. In truth, the title is

well-deserved, but I think we'll see, with thanks to the Kunou

Foundation for their generosity, that things were not as simple as the

media would like us to believe."

Tatewaki watched and listened in shock as the class went over

details of his life. Thankfully, those early years were pretty much

glossed over, labeling him as an average high school student. Ranma

and Akane were completely absent from the initial narrative, a point

he thought was strange considering they had been the catalyst for...

everything.

He raised his hand. "What about..."

"Please, save your questions until we get through today's

material. We'll have discussion then," the professor said, then

continued talking.

Events that he had lived through, suffered through were

presented as spectacles for the mass of college students. The fact

that they thought it was all the most fascinating thing they had ever

heard was of no comfort. His life was on display, and he didn't care

for it at all.

The lecture stopped at the year 2008, the year his father had

died. Strangely, that memory caused him more grief than he would have

thought. His father, who he had always hated, was gone. Maybe to a

better place, maybe someplace worse, but...

There was something that made him nervous about being "out" of

his hiding place. To an extent, he wished he was back in his own

little world, where it was safe and stable.

And maybe if he would have just... gone on, he would be safe

and stable somewhere. Heaven, limbo, or just plain dead, he had to

wonder.

"Now, young lady, what was your question?" the professor

asked, shaking Tatewaki from his contemplation.

"I wanted to know..."

"Please, stand up so everyone can hear you."

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Tatewaki stood and repeated

his question. "I wanted to know more about Saotome Ranma and Tendo

Akane. What part did they play?"

The professor narrowed his eyes for a split second before

shaking his head and assuming an amused expression. "Classmates of

his. Nothing more."

This girl... he didn't even know her name... She was a

potential thorn in his side. It had been because of the KF that he

had gotten his job, their warehouse's of information that never saw

the light of day... Sure, it was altered to be acceptable for public

consumption, but...

This girl knew things. "Is that all?"

Tatewaki wasn't done yet. "What about..." It was shameful

and evil, but there was no getting around it. "What about the

disappearances of Gosunkugi Hikaru and Unryu Akari?"

"What about them? Young lady, if you want me to answer

questions, they have to make sense." This was definitely suspect.

There was a quiet murmur in the auditorium that was beginning

to build in volume.

"What about..." This would probably blow the lid off the

place. "What about the drugs administered by Gosunkugi Kyoofu and Ono

Tofu..."

He stopped speaking as the room erupted. Waiting a few

moments as the professor stared daggers at him.

"What about the drugs they administered to gain control of the

Foundation for themselves, relegating Kunou Tatewaki to the role of a

mere pretender? What about them?"

"Ellie!" Manabu hissed at her. "Stop it! You'll have the KF

on your ass!"

"What about, on the night of the 'terrorist bombing', the men

that were also killed in the blast, that were sent to kill Kunou

Tatewaki by Gosunkugi Kyoofu and Ono Tofu? What about them!" he ended

up shouting.

The room was filled with the sound of almost a thousand

students all talking at the same time, much to Tatewaki's pleasure.

Yes, let the truth come out. Let them all see how they had been

fooled.

"QUIET!" The look on the professor's face was unpleasant to

say the least. As the auditorium silenced, he looked at Tatewaki, a

very evident sneer on his face. "Young lady, who do you think you

are, slandering the names of the Chief Executor of the Kunou Foundation

and the founder of Onocorp? What do you know that has been hidden

from the rest of us? Hm? And just what lends you any credibility at

all?"

The man was smooth. He knew how to direct the conversation,

to turn things around. "I know more... than I would like to. And

what I know hasn't been filtered and approved by the Foundation to

show them in a brighter light.

"What I know is the truth. The real truth. Not the truth the

Foundation would have you believe."

The whispering throughout the auditorium picked up again.

"And what is your name, young lady? I think I shall shortly

be recommending you for psychiatric care."

That brought a few nervous laughs, but nothing more.

"I should ask who are you, sir, to be lecturing lies about

someone you know NOTHING about other than what's been fed to you?"

"Ellie! What the hell are you talking about? Sit down!"

Manabu whispered vehemently, pulling on her arm.

Hearing Manabu's voice, the professor could finally put a name

to the face. "Ah yes, Miss Meadows. This is an interesting thing for

you to be saying, considering your... ethnic background." That was

said with a definite tone of disgust in his voice.

"You," Tatewaki said in a low and dangerous voice, "are

nothing more than a lap-dog for those villains, and spread lies to hide

their crimes. You are not an educator, but a simple charlatan." He

snorted. "Corporate sponsored history... Your lies do not fool me."

"Miss Meadows," the professor said, his voice calm, but not at

all friendly, "I suggest you sit down before you disturb the class

further. Your... foolish comments have no place in an institution of

learning."

"Unless you wish to learn the truth," Tatewaki retorted and

began exiting the row. "I will stand for no more of this."

Every person in the auditorium watched him leave, some amused,

others curious, and the professor with slitted eyes.

Her name would go into a report to be turned in to the

university and the Foundation. That had been one of the conditions of

being allowed access to the information; he had to keep an eye on the

students who showed... uncommon interest in the topics he talked

about.

Ellison Meadows ranked very high on his list of suspicious

students at the moment.

It didn't matter where he went. Back to where the whole mess

had started would probably be best because he was guaranteed a way

back to his hiding spot. After what had happened in that class, he

was ready to completely give up on the world.

The rain was really coming down, large drops splattering on

the sidewalk, soaking through the clothes on the body he was wearing.

He couldn't let himself get too comfortable because that would just be

the quickest way to misery.

"Ellie!" the young man, the interfering young man, called from

behind him. "Wait up!"

Tatewaki kept going, ignoring the pleading in the voice. He

wouldn't stand for any more lies. His life was not something that

people could just change around because it looked better that way. If

people wanted to know something about him, they should know it all.

"Ellie! Hold it!" Manabu grabbed who he thought was Ellie's

arm and turned her around. "What's wrong with you? Don't you know

what kind of trouble you get in saying stuff like that? That goes

right to the KF!"

Tatewaki snorted. "Then so be it. They should know that

there are people who are aware of their lies."

"Ellie, what's wrong with you! Don't you get it? They can...

They'll..."

He turned and looked hard at the man. "I know what they are

capable of. Now if you'll excuse me." Tatewaki shrugged out of

Manabu's hold and walked back toward the unfinished hall. Though he

was right, and Tatewaki would have to do something about that.

He smirked. That was as simple as one minor manipulation of

some rather insecure data, and this student would be free and clear.

Ellie Meadows, if he heard the professor and her friends right, would

soon be on the receiving end of a full scholarship and immunity from

the Foundation's terror squads.

Foundation. What a laugh. There was nothing left of what he

had started; it was all the doings of Gosunkugi and Ono.

And this poor, misguided fool that thought everything was as

they taught it to him. They all thought that. Tatewaki suddenly

broke into a run, not looking behind him, not looking ahead... just

running blindly.

A building, he ran inside, not seeing which it was, and

slammed into someone. He fell to the floor roughly, grimacing, and

looked up.

"My dear, what's come over you? Don't you have a class now?"

It took all of Tatewaki's self-control to not attack him and

rip his throat out.

He leaned down a little and held his hand out to her. The two

men on either of him stood impassively, an umbrella held in one of

their hands.

Wanting to take the offered hand and crush it, Tatewaki,

trembling with rage, stood on his own and brushed himself off. "What

do you want?" he asked in as neutral a tone of voice he could manage.

"I was just on my way to lunch. As you don't appear to be in

class, why don't you join me? I was planning on going to the club,

but if you would prefer, we could go... someplace more private."

The very thought made Tatewaki almost vomit right there. "No,

I don't think so," he answered, snarling slightly.

He smirked. "Very well. Is our appointment still on for

tonight? The penthouse is so... achingly empty and could use a

visitor... or two."

Tatewaki opened his mouth in preparation to tell him to rot in

hell, but he closed it quickly. Steadily trembling, he shook his

head. "No," he said through gritted teeth, "I don't think so."

Turning quickly, almost running, Tatewaki left the building, hoping

that he wouldn't be followed.

"Chief Executor, should we..." one of the men started to ask.

Kyoofu watched his young mistress break into a run through the

rain. "No, there's no need. Some flowers to her room should do."

He watched for a moment more. "I have business to attend to anyway."

With that said, he waited for the door to be opened then stepped out.

One of the men held the umbrella over him, and they started their way

off campus.

Finally. He sat down with his back against the wall and

relaxed. Now to escape the prison, get as far away from the living

hell he had somehow gotten himself into.

It was a bit of a struggle, separating himself from the girl,

giving him the distinct feeling of ripping away...

And then he was himself, or what was left of himself again.

The girl stirred at his feet, and he knew he had to hide as quickly as

possible. If she believed it was only a dream, or some sort of

sleep-walking, then she wouldn't talk.

There was no doubt that he would be a hunted animal if there

was even a chance that he was still around. While he was still a

presence, he was still a threat to Gosunkugi and Ono. That was

something they couldn't allow.

Before Ellie's eyes opened, Tatewaki faded back through the

wall and fled back into his little world.

[2034

"We're here to escort you from the building."

There were five men, all dressed in dark, conservative suits

standing around his desk. "What's... what's the meaning of this?" He

was holding the arms of his chair almost protectively, not planning on

letting go any time soon.

"You're being terminated and we're here to escort you from the

building. You have 15 minutes to collect your things." The large man

crossed his arms over his chest and stared down impassively. "Mister

Ishigane, if you don't..."

"Professor or Doctor, if you must. I have a Ph.D. and I demand

that I am treated with the respect my stature warrants!" His face was

red, and everyone around was subtlety staring at the goings-on.

"Very well, Professor Ishigane, let me make this clear. The

KF wants your butt out of here PDQ. Get it?" The men were completely

oblivious to the look of fury on the professor's face.

"Damn you! I'll take this over your head! I'll take it right

to Chief Executor Gosunkugi! He..."

A piece of paper was held out to him to read.

'In light of certain facts that have come to my attention

regarding your dealings with the media concerning sensitive materials,

you are hereby dismissed from your KF-sponsored position at Tokyo

University.'

"What? WHAT?" Ishigane ripped the paper from the man's hand

and stared at it. "Dealings with the media? This is a lie! I've

never..."

Standing suddenly, Ishigane grabbed his suit jacket. "I'm

going to talk to the Chief Executor NOW." He marched out of his

office, past the other faculty of the history department, with a

determined look on his face, leaving all his things behind.

"I demand to see the Chief Executor!" He pounded his fist on

the desk, staring angrily at the secretary.

"I'm sorry, Mister..."

"PROFESSOR Ishigane."

"I'm sorry, Professor Ishigane, but the Chief Executor is in

the middle of an important meeting and can't see you. If you'd like

to make an appointment for a later date, he can..."

"Screw this! This is my LIFE he's fucking up!" Ishigane

yelled and marched to the door. Not giving the secretary a chance to

stop him, he practically kicked in the large double doors.

"Gosunkugi! What's the meaning of this?" he demanded, still

holding the paper in his hand.

Kyoofu looked up from his video conference, the screen

blanking quickly to hide whoever it was on the other end, and smiled.

"Well it's good to see you, Mawashi." It was evident that he didn't

mean that in a friendly manner. "What brings you here?"

"This!" Ishigane walked up to the huge desk and slapped the

paper down. "What is the meaning of this?"

Kyoofu gave it a cursory glance. "It's your termination

notice. Did you remove your things from your office? I hope all your

little plaques didn't get thrown away."

"How could you... I want... I DEMAND an explanation for

this! I want to..."

Kyoofu stood up and planted his hands on his desk, leaning

forward to shout right in Ishigane's face. "You will NOT make demands

of me! You will sit down, shut up and hear what penalty you are going

to pay for taking advantage of MY generosity!"

Ishigane shrunk back under Kyoofu's verbal assault and sat

weakly in the chair. "I never..."

"Au contraire, my dear professor. As recently as, oh, let's

say, yesterday, I received an anonymous mail that included an

interesting variety of materials. Most of these were pieces of

sensitive information from the KF to a certain media group. So, you

see my position. I simply can't allow you to..."

"I never did such a thing! I wouldn't! I've always been..."

"Yes, we know. This information goes back quite a time,

almost six months. That's not a good thing." Kyoofu sat back down

and leaned back in his chair, his eyes on Ishigane. "It's a very bad

thing."

Ishigane's face paled. "But I didn't..." he protested weakly.

"That won't do it. The evidence I have that says you did far

outweighs your feeble denials." Kyoofu pushed the intercom button.

"Mutsumi..."

/They're on their way, Chief Executor./

"And since you've taken advantage of the access we've granted

you, we need to... rectify that. And you've done us the favour of

coming here yourself instead of making us send for you." Kyoofu

smiled then, a smug, disgusting smile.

A look of panic appeared on Ishigane's face. He stood up,

almost knocking the chair over. "It's a lie! It's all a lie!" he

yelled, then turned and ran for the doors.

Before he could open them, they were flung open in his face,

one of them smashing into his nose.

With a strangled yelp, he fell backward, hand on his face,

blood gushing out of his broken nose.

The four men that entered the room looked quite similar to the

ones that had been at the University, big, burly, dressed in black

suits, looks of distaste on their faces.

"Gentlemen, please remove him to the Onocorp facilities as

discretely as possible," Kyoofu said. "And next time, Mawashi, be a

little more careful with your treachery; you'll live longer."

The next day, the campus of the University of Tokyo seemed

unchanged except for one class.

"Cancelled? What?" Manabu exclaimed as he looked at the signs

posted on the doors to the auditorium. "Why is class cancelled?"

Kaneko stood at his shoulder, shaking her head. "I heard from

someone in one of the later classes that Ishigane got fired. It's all

over the history department."

"Fired? For what?" Manabu stared in disbelief at the notice.

The girl shrugged. "I wouldn't believe anything I've heard.

Just that when it happened, Ishigane was pretty pissed about it.

Guess you could hear him yelling through the entire building."

Manabu ripped the sign off and crumpled it in his hand.

"Damn! So much for this class. And I was looking forward to..." He

trailed off when he saw Ellie approaching. It wasn't likely, but it

was possible that Ellie's outburst had been one of the reasons for the

termination.

She looked distinctly tired and unhappy, unusual for her, even

under the circumstances. She waved tiredly as the others just looked

at her. "What's up?" she asked.

"Class is cancelled," Manabu said sourly.

"Ishigane sick?"

"No, fired. Class is cancelled for the rest of the semester."

Ellie seemed to deflate. "That's... too bad." The others had

their doubts, but she knew. Whatever had happened while she had

been... unconscious that day, known only to her by what the others had

said, had something to do with it. "This sucks," she said quietly.

"Yeah," Kaneko added, shifting her bag to her other shoulder.

"I hope we won't have our financial aid pulled for this."

Ellie nodded in sympathy, not daring to tell the others about

the letter she had gotten from the University. To say she had been

shocked when she had read it was an understatement. To get a letter

from the University when she had been fearing some severe

consequences and reading that she was getting a full scholarship...

"Well, I guess I'll be heading back to my room. I'm not

really feeling well," she said instead. The entire situation was just

sitting like a ball of iron in her stomach, and nothing seemed to make

things any better.

"You're not looking so good. Did you go to the clinic?"

Manabu asked, noting the dark circles under Ellie's eyes that hadn't

left for over a week.

She hesitated for a moment. "Sort of."

Kaneko shook her head and leaned over. "You haven't been

taking anything that..."

"Just leave him out of it. I don't want to bring him into

this. He's got nothing to do with it." He had told her they were

only vitamins anyway. There was nothing wrong with that.

The group fell into an uneasy silence, all pondering the

cancelled class.

[2040

That had sealed it. As unappealing an idea as it was, it was

something Tatewaki thought he had to do. He had put his revenge on

hold, he had to put what he had died for aside.

The upside was that if his plan worked out, he could influence

future events more directly than just simple revenge. His future

plans would be the... re-education of society.

Yet, to actually do such a thing, he needed a vessel, and

frankly, he wasn't willing to cut someone down just for that. He

wouldn't use the tactics of Gosunkugi for such a thing (even though he

had with Ishigane), he refused to stoop so low.

He was better than that, had always been better than that.

Even in his darkest hours, he was better than Gosunkugi. Better than

all of them and their lying, manipulative, greedy...

The hate and anger and anguish swelled, and instead of the

pleasant glowing blue his environment normally was, it took on an

unhealthy blackish hue.

He was better than them. And he was more dangerous than they

would ever suspect.

"We've got power failures all over the grid! Computer access

is blocked!"

"What about override?"

He typed in a few commands. "Nothing! Block 636 is going

red!"

"Alert the police and fire emergency. Have them prepare for

traffic alerts and fire hazards." It was the main engineer's job to

assure that things got done. It was his job not to panic.

The operator picked up the phone and punched the emergency

number. He waited as the phone made an odd buzzing in his ear, and

then the computer monitor began to flicker wildly.

"Oh shit! We're going red! Everything across the board

is..."

The lights died then, along with all the other electronic

equipment, phones, air conditioning in the room. Even the emergency

lights failed to turn on, and the entire room was a black hole.

"What the HELL was that?" the engineer asked, finally losing

his cool.

"I... I don't know. Everything just started dying for no

reason. There weren't any alerts or hot spots before... It just

died," the operator responded in an awed voice. Never had he seen

anything so abrupt, so final happen like that. Not even an earthquake

or tsunami could kill the building so completely.

They sat in the dark for five minutes, unable to leave because

the electronic doors to the building's operation center were sealed

and could be opened only by key-cards.

After those five minutes, they began to get nervous.

"Do you think we're the only ones? An attack on the

building?" the operator asked.

"Could be, but if 636 went down, it's probably got a wider

range than just us. There's nothing on that block to attack, just

some small businesses and stores."

"Do you think the whole city is down?"

Silence reigned for a minute.

"I hope not."

Block by block, the city of Tokyo and much of the surrounding

area went black. Completely and utterly dark, devoid of all power.

It stayed that way for almost an hour.

"Will we run out of air down here?"

"We shouldn't, but..." With no power at all, it was hard to

say. If it was all pumped in oxygen with no real ventilation, they'd

only live as long as their current supply of air lasted.

"I didn't touch anything. It just started doing it all by

itself."

"I know. I'm not sure it will matter though. When we get out

of here, they'll need someone to blame. If we're lucky, it'll just be

a permanent black mark on our records."

"I've got a kid." The operator thought his voice sounded very

weak in the blackness.

"We'll manage something. Something." The worst result would

be the problem his kids faced. Losing his job was... awful, but a

strike on him would be a strike against all of them too. "Shit."

And as if that was the magic word, there was a chugging sound,

whirring, and the lights flickered to life. All the monitors in the

room flared on, popping with electricity, and a sudden blast of cool

air came from the vents.

The two men looked up at the ceiling, wondering what had

happened, but more importantly, thanking whatever gods there might be

for getting them out of the situation.

"Quick! Status check!" the engineer barked, and dropped down

in a chair in front of another machine.

The operator began rapidly typing as the prompt came out.

"System status is go." More typing, sweat drenching his face as he

worked to put everything back the way it had been. "Power... all

grids green."

"Good. Organize police and military to sweep the city for

anything suspicious. Have medical and fire emergency on top alert;

there's bound to be something going wrong." His fingers jabbed at the

keys, going deeper into the system.

"Diagnostic spider going," he said tensely. If a problem

appeared, it would probably be here, and it would probably be severe.

His eyes were glued to the monitor as numbers and almost meaningless

lines of code scrolled up the screen.

The first break would mean trouble. He was waiting for it.

"Issue an official report," he commanded, knowing the media

would be all over the incident, and probably laying a heavy blame on

them. "Tell them... tell them anything. Hackers, terrorists,

marauding squirrels... Anything!"

"I'm on it."

The sharp ringing of the phone shook them both. They looked

at it with dread.

[2046

Tatewaki had to wonder just how long this little project had

been stewing in the minds of nemeses? Had this been one of the

purposes for his removal by Gosunkugi? That couldn't be so; that was

far too simple for the complete take-over that had taken place.

He made his own investigation of the files, unknown by anyone.

It was an... interesting scheme, to say the least. Genetic

manipulation, an army of supersoldiers, completely loyal, throwaway

people basically.

The idea almost made Tatewaki laugh. Complete loyalty would

only carry a person so far. He knew from first-hand experience. He

hadn't been any sort of supersoldier, but his heart had carried him

further than any genetic cocktail ever would.

But... The idea did indeed have potential, but not safely in

the hands of two madmen. It would be better if he had ultimate

control over the fate of such a thing.

A few more gentle touches, shifts, manipulations and that was

that. It would be years before the plan would ever come to fruition,

but he could wait years. They were the ones who could not afford

those years spent on extensive research. They were the ones with such

limited lives, such limited vision.

In the end, it would be their downfall and his resurgence.

Of course, he had to wait until the project was actually set

in motion to exert a more complete influence over it, but it would be

worth it. This was definitely improving his mood from before. If

only it had been so easy when he was actually alive, then things would

have been different.

"Did you see that?"

"See what?"

"I just had a glitch flash across my monitor. There it is

again!"

The screen flashed for the barest moment, almost impossible to

see with the naked human eye.

"Screen capture it and we can take a look. It's probably just

a weird power spike."

A few moments later, the monitor flashed and the incident was

captured. The two men opened the first file in the series of screen

captures. It was as the screen should have been. They moved on to

the next one, and the next one.

"Maybe there wasn't anything to pick up. It probably was just

a power spike."

The next picture appeared and the two men stared. Very

clearly, emblazoned in red across the regular text...

"What the hell?"

"I don't know, but I don't think I want to work down here any

longer."

'vengeance happiness'

[2047

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"...truly, this dark cradle of civilization was ever the wellspring of

horrors and marvels unspeakable." - H.P. Lovecraft

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The University tried it again with plenty of urging from the

Foundation. Urging and support that never made it to the University's

secure account. The details of the Global Savior's life would not

become a spectacle again.

In fact, all electronic communication between the two parties

was disrupted, making it impossible to work out what had happened.

Even face to face meetings were troublesome, something consistently

delaying one party or the other for hours on end...

It was as if they were purposely being kept apart, but that

was just silly. If there was any sort of tampering going on, surely

they would have found it. No one could hide their tracks that well.

That had caught Ishigane, they had caught a number of other

fools who thought they could take advantage of the size of the

Foundation, try to lose their evidence amongst all the electronic

information being passed around... It never worked.

And now, there was something going on that was more than

suspicious. Combined with that near disastrous blackout, there was

nothing left to doubt. There was a very clever person with their

fingers in the system, and they were good. Too good.

"I think it's an inside job." Kyoofu scowled as the picture

started to get fuzzy, Tofu's face warping out of recognizability.

/Not from my end. You need to take better care of who you

let into the system./ Tofu's voice was garbled by static, but still

audible, still understandable.

Scowling, Kyoofu stopped himself from disconnecting right

then. "Look, do you know how far we got set back by that blackout?

It's not just my problem!"

The picture winked out for a moment, then reappeared. /I

know what's happened./ His voice sounded on the edge of yelling.

/I've been overseeing it personally, and I'm sure you can't even

imagine the research dollars.../

Kyoofu snorted. "The research dollars that went into it. And

you think I don't know where those research dollars you complain about

so much came from? Practically out of my pocket!"

Tofu looked angry for a moment, the colours warping, then he

laughed a little. /Don't be so angry, pot. You are just as black as

I am, and just as guilty./

"I've got my people working on it," Kyoofu snapped before he

did disconnect. Ono was no help. He hadn't even seemed that

concerned about the problems the blackout could have potentially

caused, let alone the ones it had.

The reports had come in after the power had come back on about

the several small detention centers in Tokyo. No criminals had

escaped, but there had been rioting, and even a few deaths.

He sat in his chair for a moment, eyes closed, meditating.

Hopefully, an answer would come to him, a solution to all these sudden

problems. One hand went to his desk drawer and opened it before

pulling out a small bottle of pills.

He skilfully opened the bottle with one hand and fished out a

pill. Opening his eyes slowly, he looked at what he held in his

fingers. It was tiny, small enough that he could dry swallow it with

no problem, and green. A sickly, pale green that reminded him of

dying leaves.

Kyoofu opened his mouth a popped the pill in, swallowing, not

even feeling it go down his throat. Tofu's little cocktails. It

worried him sometimes, when he bothered to think about it. Those

little home-made concoctions worked so well, and here he was, taking

them without a second thought.

"Ono, I'll kill you if these pills have any side-effects," he

vowed quietly. "That is a promise, and I'll flush all your stupid

projects right down the toilet. Screw you and your facilities...

This is my money now."

[2047

It had gotten to the point where torturing the two was no

longer enjoyable. They were so persistent, so unrelenting... It was

enjoyable to see their frustration, watch just how hard they tried,

but they didn't actually DO anything. And they couldn't. They

couldn't find him, didn't even know he was still watching them.

Even if they did, there was nothing they could do. They

couldn't shut him down, couldn't keep him out. What they considered

their network, their computers... it all belonged to him now.

There was still one thing eating away at his curiosity. A

thing only ghosts could see. No surveillance cameras, no computer

imaging could show it to him. Only he could see it with his eyes.

That meant...

He quivered, excitement and anger and fright surging through

him, disrupting the display of the giant display in Tokyo square,

sending lines of interference through the picture there.

He had to leave his safety again. It had been... too long, he

thought. He hated leaving, but it was that moment of excitement, like

free-fall, that teased him. To stand there, feeling naked, in the

world, with no protection... It was a nightmare, and yet, it was

something he dared to do.

But just this time. This couldn't become a habit for him; it

was too dangerous for that. Why, Tatewaki wasn't sure. There was

just something in him that told him it was better to stay inside where

no one could touch him, no one could get close to him. Stay inside,

as far away from the living world as he could get.

Less than the time it would take for a heart to beat, he

traveled from his home spot in the city operations center (a thinly

disguised KF front) to the USE building.

Tatewaki flitted from computer to computer, like a a bee to

flowers, but none of them had the nectar he desired. Even the project

head's machine was amazingly sparse. A trip to the immense mainframe,

and that was a disappointment. Nothing but financial records,

estimates, schedules, garbage.

Deeper then. He had taken a fork in the network to look at

the more standard computers, but there was a path that he suspected

would lead him to the entire core of USE and Ono's plans. The good

doctor did not disappoint.

He found them, all the disgusting details, on the second

mainframe, ten times larger than the more pedestrian one upstairs.

And on that mainframe, Tatewaki saw, with more clarity than he wanted

to, what he had funded for all those years. This was what all that

blackmail money had gone too, and he had agreed on it.

He had seen the beginnings, and they had been... hideous. But

that had only been the surface. Digging beneath it proved to be much,

much worse. No longer was it a silly dare to himself, a joyride into

the world. It was now necessary to either assuage his fears, or to

shame himself for what he had done.

No one else could, but no one else needed to. Though he

wanted to be wrong, he had existed long enough in a ghost state to

understand a little more about what had happened. And if he applied

that theory to the data he was looking through...

Tatewaki had to see, he had to know the truth. And if that

truth was as horrible as he feared, then he would need to do something

to make things... Not better, surely, but more right than they had

been. It was a fate no one deserved.

He located an exit point, one that he hoped would not be

occupied any time soon, and forced himself out. In an annoyingly

primitive way, it was like birth, the way he forced himself out of

the nearly dormant electrical conductor and emerged in a place so

achingly white, his eyes hurt.

The room was sterile, clean to the point of insanity. This

was it; he recognized the decor from his previous visit, and it was no

better now than it had been. And then, that door must be...

Looking briefly for anyone he might have missed, Tatewaki

steeled himself, pushing down the alien nervousness, and passed

through the thick door.

It was almost as he remembered it. Not quite, but almost.

Things had changed with the advancement of science, of technology, but

still, those awful tanks. And worse.

Finally he saw what Akane must have seen, what had driven her

to thirst for vengeance. A thirst that had surpassed his own by far.

It was worse than he had feared, and it had nothing to do with the

deteriorated tissue he saw in those tanks.

Here was a far worse punishment than anything any living

person could imagine. He scowled as her lifeless, half-lidded eyes

stared through him. This... this was intolerable, like looking at

someone in a vegetative state and not allowing nature to take its

course.

"I never knew," he whispered, his voice sounding very loud in

the empty room. "It's not too late; you can still go... go to

wherever." He spoke to the unresponsive soul, hoping that she would

acknowledge his words in any way, any way other than the rippling of

her ethereal limbs.

Tatewaki approached one of the tanks that contained a ragged

arm. It was much deteriorated, more than what was related to the

explosion it had gone through. His doing, no doubt. If he had known,

he would have kept the power out longer, let all the pieces die.

If someone wanted to die, they should be allowed that much.

There was punishment and consequences even after death, but in this

perverted stasis, there was nothing. No guilt, no anguish, no regret

or remorse. No feeling, no being, no nothing. It was oblivion.

With a look of sick anger on his face, outrage at the

disregard shown to a human, Tatewaki strode to a small panel that

pulsed with multicoloured lights. That walk across the room changed

him inexorably.

He had crossed paths with one of those tentacles, and he

felt it throughout his entire body. A cold, frigid, numbness that he

related more to the vast blackness of space than the experience of

death.

Heaven forbid that he would ever be in such a position, and if

he was, pray that someone would remove him from his misery. Yet, it

would be a misery he would not know, which seemed far worse to him.

What could be worse than to be robbed of life, and even death? What

could be worse than to be turned into a meaty equivalent of a rock?

Tatewaki's aura pulsed a dark blue, like the depths of the

sea, as he stood at the panel. It was a simple monitoring system, a

regulator that could be changed by someone in the room instead of

having to go to a workstation. It was a simple device, something he

could destroy in his sleep. If he slept anymore.

He pressed his hand through the panel and felt the inner

workings. The fools didn't have any idea just how unsafe the little

chunk of wires and pretty lights was. With just his hand in the data

stream, he turned all controls to zero level, which sent a bevy of red

lights and alarms off.

A simple surge of his own energy made the electrical

components short circuit and a small fire was started. It wouldn't be

anything too damaging, nothing that couldn't be put out nearly

instantaneously, but it would serve as a warning.

The alarm was still going off, and he could see the liquid in

the tanks turn a strange dusky orange. Tatewaki laughed suddenly.

Ono must have been shitting himself when the power had been out that

time! That gave him joy, to know that he had hurt them in some small,

middling way, to know that they were all so pathetic and foolish,

relying on their little devices to save their souls.

When that time came, their deaths, their souls would get a

special treatment. That was something he could arrange, something he

would enjoy doing.

It was all quite simple. Things had been set in motion,

before he had been born even. The proliferation of technology meant

that the world would become more dependent on computers and their

limited capacity. It was still a fragile thing, but Tokyo was all

wrapped in the web of the Foundation's network, and while all the

others thought they had things under control, it was all under his

control.

A group of men dressed in white suits rushed into the room,

passing right through him so he could feel everything about them.

Each one was a machine, a complicated neural net that utilized

electrical impulses... a lot like a computer. Infinitely more

complicated, but then... it takes time to learn.

Shaking himself from his sudden thoughts, Tatewaki knew it was

time to go. He was about to return the way he had entered, but then

considered what he had just done in the panel. A small smile creased

his face. This meant he had the power to come and go as he pleased,

causing a minor amount of damage in the process, but nothing serious.

Things just got better and better as he pushed the limits of

his existence. Akane was still out there, and there had to be

others... He wondered if the knew of the things he did, if they were

capable of the things he was. Did they know or care about the power

they could hold?

Akane had thought she was helpless, with no influence over the

things she saw happen around her. A ghost might have been a

physically intangible thing, but it was far from helpless. If only he

could find her and show her the things he had learned, then...

Nothing. He would not do such a thing. He just couldn't.

The world flowed past him in what seemed to be slow motion.

People walked like they were mired in quicksand, and words were

slurred as they spoke. It was an interesting feeling, being pulled

between his world, at least what he thought of as his world, and the

regular world.

One light and dancing with energy, the other slow and heavy,

bogged down in the constraints of misunderstanding and ignorance. His

world was water and air, their world was earth and fire. One day, he

could probably change that though. He immersed himself fully, back

into the safety he was familiar with. With enough time, he would be

the puppet-master and the entire world his stage.

[2057

Again, he tampered with the files they thought were most

secure. The fools had programmed in their own faults to make their

little toy easier to control, which he promptly removed. There was a

small increase in height and strength, something that would more befit

the resurrected Global Saviour.

Mental capacities, bumped just a tad. He could get along fine

with the way he was now, but he didn't need to limit himself either.

The greater the potential, the more that opened up to him. And it was

getting to be that he simply absorbed information, not even pretending

to himself that he read anything.

That had started happening... too long ago for him to

remember, just knowing things that went on. He had started out as a

tiny entity, self-contained, afraid and small. As he had learned

more, he had extended himself, become larger than just his former

corporeal body.

It must have been shortly after he caused the blackout,

realizing that he affected things he didn't mean to. He affected

things because they were, in a way, a part of him. It wasn't anything

as clear cut as becoming a part of the system, it was more of a...

sharing. Nothing as far as a gestalt, though sometimes he could feel

himself slipping into such a thing.

He needed to stay apart, to be able to separate himself. To

be one or the other was too limiting. But to be able to be either/or

at any time he wished, that was what he wanted.

But this, this was tempting. A vessel, a body for him to use

as he saw fit. A way to impose his will directly upon people. They

thought he was dead and gone, but little did they know. It might not

look like him, but it would be him.

He would rise from the grave and take what was owed to him.

Project R. So small and insignificant to him, but obviously very

important to the others.

Project R. Reiraku. Stupid.

Project R. Resurrection. Much more fitting.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"... but in sleeping the Gods have grown kind and will not hurl him to the

gulf made for deniers of Gods. Instead will their vengeance smite the

darkness, fallacy and ugliness which have turned the mind of man..."

- H.P. Lovecraft

END VENGEANCE OF HEAVEN


	14. The Spider's Silken Touch

The Spider's Silken Touch

By Lara Bartram

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Welcome to my parlour," said the spider to the fly.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

[ 2037 - Spring

Fushigi. My wife. The idea is almost physically ill to me.

Not that I am unappreciative of women. Far from it. But Fushigi...

She is a Kurenai. I do not like the Kurenais. In fact, I loathe

them. I loathe my wife.

She is fair of face, slender of form, and pretty enough,

but... She is a Kurenai. She is my wife only because endearing

myself to them allows me to watch them. And I watch them. I watch

all that they do to see when that day will come.

When it does, I will be prepared. There will be no surprises.

She is my wife, yet she is my very own spy as well.

The idea of a child with her is... uncomfortable. Yet, I

could not watch the Kurenais effectively without making the illusion

complete. I laid with her in bed, yet there was nothing to come of

the effort other than wasted physical exertion and a sweaty mess in

the fine silk sheets.

We tried many times, only to keep up the illusion on my part,

and it seemed she knew as well there was a limitless distance between

us that she would never cross. Why she stayed, I shall never know.

Possibly the Kurenais were as distrustful of I as I of them.

What a wonderful little situation that would have been. But why would

they be? They knew nothing of me the way I knew of their activities.

They did not know the future the way I knew the future.

It seemed... forever. We had married shortly after the death

of that fool that everyone believed to be the "Global Saviour". How

many times I was compelled to perform such a deed with her, I did not

know, but finally, a child was conceived.

I was underwhelmed.

Fushigi held nothing for me, and she knew of this.

And so it was also shortly after the death of the "Global

Saviour" that I discovered one... perk of having more money than I

realistically knew what to do with. Of course, if I had ever been

able to break the Kuno Trust, that would have been a windfall.

I would have never had to even pretend to be a businessman. I

could have run my entire operation on those funds alone. The

advancement in cloning would have allowed an illegitimate heir to

appear, under my control, if the fool had been courteous enough not to

completely obliterate himself.

But the perk... The ways of the rich and powerful are not

questioned. They are expected even. So whilst several knowledgeable

professors of history were recruited to teach the proper version of

history, I found myself... an outside source of distraction.

I saw her on my way to a meeting with the head of the history

department at the University of Tokyo. There had been ugly rumors of

a course solely focused on...

The thought makes me laugh. Though maybe I am bitter over all

he had and did not deserve. I only swept it out from under him by

necessity. Without #2993's intervention, I would have been... Who

can say? But I would be in no condition to be a true global saviour.

But to simply let the University teach to students, to not

carefully control the sharing of information about certain

circumstances... That could not be tolerated.

So I was on my way to speak with the head of the history

department, to have a trusted man put in position to teach a course

with a more acceptable content, when I saw her.

My first thought was just how foolish those foreigners were to

take everything so seriously. To take Kuno Tatewaki seriously, for

anything, was to be ridiculed by those who knew the truth. I knew the

truth. The fools.

The entire world was a great sphere full of fools. Except for

me. I knew. And I knew what I needed.

[ 2032 - Spring

I arched an eyebrow at her companion, a thin, yet wiry young

man. He glared back at me. I think he was trying to intimidate me.

"It's fine, Manabu. You go on. I'll catch up later."

She knew better than to let a silly child determine her course

of action.

"You watch it with him. I really don't think..."

She shoved him, playfully, and smiled.

He walked away, giving me scathing looks. College students

were so humorous. I wonder if #2993 had found the same humor in the

Global Saviour.

"I know of a glorious restaurant just on the outskirts of the

city. Would you care to accompany me?" I asked. I could see,

immediately, she would not refuse.

"Well, I..." She looked around nervously. I knew I should

have dismissed my men before approaching her. "I have a class..."

"Nonsense. Class is a minor thing." I dared touch her cheek,

not even realing how young she was. It was no matter. "One meal with

me won't hurt, will it?"

She was divided. Poor girl.

"Come. It is equally important that a student have adequate

nourishment. You shall have your fill."

"But I don't even know your name," she said suddenly.

Had I forgotten? How foolish of me. "Forgive me then.

Gosunkugi Kyoofu, at your service." I lifted her hand gently to my

lips and felt the soft, warm skin as I kissed it.

She looked at me, amazed. Chivalry was not dead when it could

get me something I wanted. The blush that rose in her cheeks was

quite enticing.

"Well, I suppose..." she answered, trying to not meet my gaze.

"Let us be off then." I took hold of her arm gently and led

her away. My two men followed at a respectable distance, ever present

like twin shadows. "My car is waiting. It shouldn't take too long to

get there."

We walked rather slowly for my taste. She was still hesitant,

and I was more than patient. "There's my car now," I said drolly as

we approached the large classical limousine.

I preferred the more elegant style, the more intimate seating

over the large square beasts I endured for my former employer's sake.

They looked more distinguished and made whoever sat inside seem that

much more important.

Some person of whose name I wasn't even aware opened the door

for us and we both entered the vehicle. I could still see that she

was unsure, that the evidence of money and power did nothing to

assuage her fears.

"To Amakawa," I commanded, my eyes looking over my new friend

quite carefully. Probably more than she would be comfortable with,

but she was currently too busy investigating her potential escape

routes from the vehicle. Smart girl.

The car set in motion and there was no longer any escape.

Silence dominated the trip. She had nothing to say, nor did

I. When we arrived at the restaurant, things changed.

"Good day, Chief Executor."

A cursory nod to the person holding open my door. I slid out

and helped my companion exit the vehicle as well.

"Miss," the person said, and I saw him give her a bow of his

head. Smart man. Surprising considering the class of people around

here. The fact that they even understand the concept of respect...

It no doubt allows them to live longer.

I held her arm gently as we walked to the front doors and they

were opened for us.

"Chief Executor," the person said, bowing slightly. "Miss."

She looked at them all, amazement clear on her face.

I chuckled and leaned over to whisper in her ear, "Pay them no

mind. They fear for their jobs, and rightly so."

That look turned in my direction this time.

"Chief Executor, right this way."

The best table with the best view. That is where I sit. That

is where I always sit. The view was nicer with the addition of my

companion, yet she was intimidated, and that was something I did not

want.

"Don't be nervous, There's nothing to be concerned about

here. Not with me." My smile put her at ease, though the next

intrusion set my teeth on edge.

"Gosunkugi! How's your little setup over at the KF?"

I turned my head ever so slowly. I couldn't really call him

an intellectual rival, for he was hardly any sort of intellectual,

and he was no rival. Mostly Oikawa Urizane was an annoyance and seemed

to follow me everywhere.

"Do you mind? I am attempting to have a private lunch. You

are intruding." I saw her look at me, and I knew she must have made

the connection. It would be slightly intimidating if I were in her

position.

"Oh, excuse me, Chief Executor. After all, the Kuno Foundation

doesn't really need you to run it, does it?" He stood there, looking,

leering, laughing, and he knew.

I don't know how, but he knew. I snapped my fingers and the

manager was there instantly. "Yes, Chief Executor? Is there a

problem?"

"This... person is interrupting a private meal. Would you

have him removed?" I cared not who he was, who he worked for, what

kind of people he had working for him. Mine were better.

"No need. I'm leaving. Enjoy," he said, still smiling.

"Enjoy it while you still have it."

I turned my head and did not watch him leave. The oaf. If he

dared cross my path, he would find himself at the bottom of

ex-employer's infamous pit, rotting along with the bones of my

unfortunate father.

"Chief Executor?"

Ah yes. That's where I was. "A title. Nothing more. My job

is much more... pedestrian than it might seem to people outside the

Foundation." Though in truth, my title was much more pedestrian than

my person. No one would ever know the true work I put into the

blasted Foundation.

No one would even know why. By then, they wouldn't care.

Maybe I would even be dead. But my work would live on, and it would

keep the world safe.

"Of the Kuno Founda..."

I waved my hand. "Yes, yes. It's really not something I'd

like to make an issue of. I find myself dealing with business matters

far too much and would like this to be a simple luncheon. Is that

acceptable?"

She nodded and lifted her glass of water shakily to her lips.

Seeing her distress, I waved one of my men over. He leaned

down and I whispered quietly to him. It wouldn't do for my companion

to hear this information. I did not need her any more frightened than

she was.

It had taken an amazingly short amount of time. The workers

were paid handsomely enough, I shouldn't have been surprised. This

time, the penthouse was decorated to my tastes and was much more

elegant than a barren, self-imposed prison.

Under the right circumstances, I would have even called it

romantic.

Darkness, the city lights, an elegant dinner for two, music.

It was an incredible cliche, but it was what I knew. And she enjoyed

it. I had never known the life of a typical college student. I had

never known that such a small thing as how I decorated, or I had

someone decorate would be so enticing.

"Wow. It's amazing." She was looking out the windows at the

city. It wasn't actually a very good view, but good enough. I would

have moved into something a little larger, more modern, but it just

couldn't be done with the entire world watching me.

She turned to me, excited and nervous, that much I could tell,

though anything else of what she was feeling was carefully guarded.

"I just wanted..."

"Nonsense..." I stopped myself from simply calling her girl;

that would not be looked upon kindly. "It is my pleasure to

accommodate you in this manner. I don't use the penthouse often.

It's so large, and I am but one man."

The blush rose high in her cheeks. She knew very well what I

meant, though she didn't seem at all opposed to it. "Shall we partake

in dinner?" First, of course. It was unspoken and understood. The

night would not end with dinner, or even dessert.

"I think," I said as I filled her delicate crystal glass with

the most expensive white wine, "that I would very much like to see you

in various stages of undress." I poured my own glass and set the

bottle on the table, then I met her astonished gaze.

She stared for a moment, then looked quickly down at her food.

She made no other indication that my statement had affected her. I

almost wasn't sure she had even heard me.

"Take no offense." I took a small bite of my food, not even

really tasting it. "That doesn't bother you, does it?" Truly, I

could not tell. She was enigmatic and amazingly secretive. She had

things she would not tell me under nearly any circumstance.

"I..." She shook her head, still staring at her plate of

food.

"Excellent." How my mood had improved.

I was polite and considerate. Too much time with Fushigi had

turned me into an almost absentee lover. My body was there, but

neither my heart nor my mind were. It was hard to change that

pattern, but in the end, it had been most satisfying.

She had not been unbroken, but no doubt she was used to the

pathetic fumblings of drunken college boys, and I had been the first

to show her what it was supposed to be like.

Those words never passed between us though. There was no lie.

There was no love. There was momentary physical comfort and a simple

feeling of trust between us, but nothing more.

[ 2037 - Winter

I didn't believe Ishigawa's report. I was still human, and to

accept that she had betrayed me in such a manner... No, I did not

believe. She could hide things, but she could never hide things like

that.

And in the end, I deleted that message. I put Ishigawa's

report in a drawer of my desk and forgot about it.

Until I got that mail much later that pinned it all on

Ishigawa. I was more than willing to remove him from my employ. I

didn't need him...

END


	15. Fatale

FATALE

by Adrian Wong

Edited by 4cw6

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

R2096 characters and situations used with permission. Takahashi's aren't.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Time to turn the pages

Time to turn the screw

The tyrants down the ages

Are simply passing through

No one's good or evil

When they're dead and gone

The caravan moves on"

-Tim Rice

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

" " Japanese dialogue

Thoughts

[ Chinese dialogue

/ Illusory sounds, memories

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Department of Exploratory History - Tokyo University, 2080

"Oh, Chashaku-san! Isn't this exciting?"

"Yes . . . Sakuin-chan."

Inside the tastefully-decorated exhibition area, the head of Onocorp's

genetic research program latched herself onto the arm of the Chief

Technician of the same company, as the pair made their way through the

excited crowd of young people. The child-woman of twenty-four had a

wild-eyed, almost feverish look in her shadowy eyes as she looked up at her

middle-aged, but still rather well-preserved underling.

"They say this Chinese Antique Exhibition will include the 'Bracelet of

Amazonia'," she giggled, trying to sound 'kawaii' (and failing miserably).

"You know the legend behind it, no?"

"No, actually I don't." Chashaku avoided the girl's psychotic glance and

pretended to look around at the various exhibits. Really, why did his

superior have to be a girl who was almost as obsessed with him as she with

her work? If she were better looking, then maybe it would have been

tolerable. But she looked . . . oh well, no need to get too insulting.

Then again . . . It wasn't that there was anything much the matter with

her figure. One didn't get to be head of cloning without learning a few

tricks about tissue manipulation. No, it was definitely something about her

face . . . The oppressive obsession in her large, shadow-framed eyes, rather

than her painfully thin features, was the source of his repulsion. He

smiled bitterly as he noticed that Sakuin had the same repellent effect on

the couples around them. Wherever they walked, a path would open, just as

the sea had split open long ago in rejection of a foreign prophet.

"Well, the legend had said that once upon a time, a handsome ninja had

wandered into the Amazon Village of China by mistake . . ." she trailed off

and her large eyes widened. "Oh! Look! There it is! There it is!!"

Chashaku sighed, and turned to look at the glass case with the fabled

bracelet in it. Up close, the 'Bracelet of Amazonia' was indeed a rather

beautiful-looking piece of jewelry, seemingly made of gold. However,

something seemed to be . . . missing on it, something crucial.

Why are there three empty sockets on the bracelet? Chashaku wondered.

"Oh! It is beautiful, just as the legend said it was!" the girl

squealed with exaggerated glee. She peered down at the plaque on the

display, and apparently assuming that Chashaku couldn't read, summarised the

inscription for him. "According to the legend, a ninja once met a beautiful

girl in an Amazon Village and fell in love with her. However, he could not

stay as her husband - the ninja had to continue on his training trip.

Crying tears of sadness and longing, the girl gave him her bracelet to

remember her by. Even though he never saw her again, the ninja kept the

memory of her, embodied in the bracelet, and his love for her outlasted his

proximity." She turned to the man with hints of sprinkles of tears in her

eyes. "Oh, Chashaku-kun, if only I could give you something to always

remember me by . . ."

"Eh . . . we're already seeing each other everyday at work, Sakuin-chan

. . ."

Suddenly feeling a presence from behind him, Chashaku turned, and his

eyes instantly brightened.

Standing beside him was a girl that could be anywhere between fifteen

and twenty. Her sharp-chinned, delicate face, with its dramatic dark eyes

and crimson lips, was an intriguing combination of fragility and strength.

Her bangs were short - short enough to show off her beautiful dark brows,

while the rest of her hair was long enough to flow past her thighs. Her

body, loosely clad in an off the shoulder, black Chinese robe adorned with

blood red butterfly patterns, was extremely frail. Her bust and thighs

seemed small, yet her short, tiny waist had succeeded in making her appear

more shapely and tall than she really was. A sad, lost was on her face as

she stared at the bracelet behind the glass case.

Sakuin, abruptly noticing Chashaku's shift in focus and the

breath-taking vision that had brought it about, held all the more tighter

onto him as she gave the girl a jealous, viciously animated look. The

newcomer turned her face slightly to look back at her. All traces of the

previous sadness vanished from her face, replaced by sophisticated, womanly

mischief that seemed well beyond her years.

"There is no need to look at me like that: I'm but a child, while you

are already a sophisticated woman in your full bloom."

Sakuin didn't know if that was a compliment or an insult: everyone

knew that a young girl was a much more attractive item than a woman in

Japan. Before she could decide, however, the girl extended her hand towards

her with that same smile on her face.

"My name is Mayako. Pleased to meet you . . . Gosunkugi-san."

Sakuin and Chashaku both looked at the girl in surprise. "You know my

name?"

"I've read an article in the Kunou Weekly concerning your marvelous work

at Onocorp," she smiled with narrowing eyes. "Gosunkugi-san, you are an

extraordinarily talented genetic engineer."

Sakuin's heart soar at the compliment of an 'adoring fan' as she took

Mayako's hand. Finally, someone outside her own narrow circle had realized

her genius! "Oh please, Mayako-chan, just call me Sakuin."

Mayako chuckled. "Sakuin-san."

Chashaku, meanwhile, was overtly eager to approach the girl, but hadn't

a clue as to how to start. "Eh . . . umm . . ."

Mayako, didn't seem particularly eager to acknowledge his presence,

either. Instead, she began to chat with Sakuin over a wide scope of genetic

engineering topics.

"- and my biology professor used to say that wasn't possible. chuckle 

Sakuin-san, truly you have brought about a new age in the arena of cloning."

"Oh ho ho ho ho! That was nothing, really . . ."

When he could no longer stand being left out, Chashaku cleared his

throat. Loudly. Sakuin, now back down to earth and remembering that her

love was there, introduced him to the girl.

"Mayako-chan, this is the Chief Technician of Onocorp, my co-worker."

The girl politely took his awaiting hand as she stared into his eyes.

In that split instance, Chashaku felt as if the girl was analysing his very

soul. That feeling dispersed as she took away her hand, and turned back to

Sakuin.

"Sakuin-san, I gather that you find the legend behind the Love-Pill . .

. I mean, 'Bracelet of Amazonia' an interesting tale?"

"Why yes - - -" Sakuin breathed as she embraced herself in a neurotic

parody of an innocent schoolgirl. "Even though the ninja could never meet

his love again, he still managed to keep a part of her with him always by

keeping her bracelet with him. Isn't that romantic?"

"Indeed." Mayako laughed a light, slightly bitter laugh, but Sakuin

didn't notice it. "Sakuin-san, I myself happen to have quite a bit of

insider's knowledge on many of the items presented in here today. Please do

allow me to tell you the tragic tales of romance behind some of the relics?"

her smile turned increasingly flattering as she went on, "it's the least I

can do for a scientist that I've admired from afar for so long."

Sakuin practically squealed. "Oh, you sweetheart, you!"

Mayako gave her a pleased but slightly secretive smile as she began her

storytelling.

[Several hours later, at a local Chinese restaurant

"NO!" Sakuin yelled through the noodles that were currently going down

her throat, almost choking in the process, "That can't be!"

Mayako calmly sipped on her tea, and said: "That's what the records from

the Amazon village said."

"But . . . I mean, the 'Bracelet of Amazonia' was really an item that

was ROBBED away from the Amazon Village by a thieving Japanese thug?! That

wasn't romantic at all."

"Real life seldom is, Sakuin-san," Mayako said as she nibbled on the

piece of man-tou balancing between her chopsticks with delicate grace,

"legends are but beautified versions of ugly truths."

"Awww . . . that's so disappointing . . ."

"Pardon me, Mayako-chan," Chashaku cut in, once again trying to gain the

girl's attention, "but how did you come to know of all the detailed truths

behind these ancient, obscure Chinese legends?"

Mayako casually replied as she caught his eyes with her own: "My

grandfather was an adventurer, possibly the last of his kind. He had been

through quite a few treasure hunts in China, and had left a record of all

this discoveries after he passed away."

Despite the fact that he found her explanation quite unconvincing,

Chashaku found himself nodding. Something about her eyes . . . something .

. . hypnotic, seemed to have weaken his ability to doubt her words. Then

again, that could also be attributed to her peculiar beauty and enigmatic

allure.

Sakuin, who had already accepted Mayako as her fan, didn't even feel the

need to doubt her. Instead, her shadow-framed eyes turned wistful as she

imagined what a carefree life of an adventurer would have been like. "Ah!

So that's why! Pardon me asking, Mayako-chan, but are you going to follow

in his footsteps? It sounded like a very interesting way to lead one's

life."

Mayako sighed. "Being a wanderer is only feasible when one has a vast

amount of wealth to support her . . . or his explorations. Besides . . ."

she smiled meaningfully at Sakuin, "I'd rather follow in your footsteps,

Sakuin-san. You've accomplished much more for humanity than my grandfather

ever did."

"Oh, have I?" Sakuin gushed and held her palms to her burning cheeks.

"Well, ummm . . . Mayako-chan, are you in high school?"

Mayako's eyes further lengthened as her smile grew. "Actually,

Sakuin-san, I've just finished my bachelor's degree in Genetic Engineering

and Biology, and am looking for work experience." Noticing Sakuin's and

Chashaku's odd looks, she asked: "Is something the matter?"

Coughing, Chashaku spoke up: "Mayako-chan, pardon me asking, but how OLD

are you?"

Looking into his eyes with her calm, infinitely deeper ones, she

replied: "Eighteen."

While Chashaku found himself lacking strength to continue his words,

Sakuin continued the questioning for him. "And you've ALREADY finished

the bachelor's degree?"

Mayako turned to Sakuin with a smile. "My family was . . . very

concerned with my education. As a result, I entered University

comparatively sooner than those others my age. Here," opening her purse,

she took out pieces of official diplomas from the Faculty of Applied Life

Sciences of Tokyo U, "these are my diplomas. Onocorp can do a scan on this

to verify their validity if it wishes to."

For the first time, Sakuin realized what was going on: the girl had

prepared all this beforehand. This wasn't a chance encounter with an

adoring fan, it was a meeting planned by an ambitious, terribly confident

girl who knew what she wanted, and wasn't afraid to get it. Sakuin didn't

know what to say, for all this seemed way too much like a crusade set-up

that could only appear in movies.

As if reading Sakuin's thoughts, Mayako smiled a seemingly understanding

smile, and spoke up. "Then of course, if my self promotion is putting you

into an awkward situation, I can always take back my request. After all, I

didn't want the pioneer of Genetic Engineering suffer any inconveniences due

to an impertinent child's wishful thinking."

Mayako then looked away with articulate melancholy in her gesture. To a

trained eye, it would have resembled the gesture of a rather good actress.

But to Sakuin, who was never a good judge of character in the first place,

it looked heart-breakingly genuine.

"Oh, Mayako-chan, I . . . " pausing to think for a moment, she

continued, "Why don't we wait a few days while I wrap up the current step of

my project? Then, I will take the time to give you a private tour of

Onocorp, so that you can decide on whether or not you would like to

contribute your talents to the company. Sounds good?"

There! Now, if those Ono puppet masters refuse her, then the blame

will be on them, not me. 

If Mayako knew that Sakuin was still trying to refuse her joining into

Onocorp, she didn't let it show. Instead, she smiled. "It's more than

what I could dream of, Sakuin-san."

Sakuin inwardly sighed with relief. Thank the lucky stars that she's

still young. Deity, but I'm cunning. She busied herself entirely with

self-praise, missing the amused, near-predatory look twinkling in the young

girl's eyes even as she smiled.

That same night, after dropping Chashaku home, Sakuin was driving home

through a more run-down part of Tokyo as she reflected on the earlier

events. Before they went their separate ways, Mayako had given the woman

her address and phone number, politely asking for her to keep in contact.

Sakuin had decided to do a check on them when she got back to work the next

day.

Mayako-chan sounded genuine . . . but still, a girl with her ambition

is truly too dangerous to be let into the company just like that. Besides,

she could be a spy. I've got to verify that incredible University record of

hers as well . . . 

Unseen to her, far above the streets, a slender, long-haired figure was

leaping from rooftop to rooftop as it followed her car with equally high

speed. Calculating the path the car was taking, it leapt 150 metres forward

and landed in a small, side alley. It took a small piece of stone from

within its outfit, then began waiting for the moment when the car would

pass by on the main street. As it did, the figure aimed the stone at the

car's front tire and tensed its middle finger. . .

A sharp hiss that sounded like a tire blowing up shocked Sakuin out of

her train of thought as her car abruptly sprung out of control. Quickly

stepping on her brakes, the car took a couple of impressive spins on the

fortunately empty street and came to a complete stop after hitting a

light-pole. Groaning, Sakuin shakily got out of the car. As she had

suspected, the front tire of the car had exploded somehow, causing the

collision.

But . . . how? Her car had just received a checkup last week. She

swore that she would switch to another check-up company as she wandered away

from her car to look for a pay phone. It turned out to be quite a longer

trip than she had expected. In any case, she was glad that she could call

up her father to send someone-

"Hey there, look, a lady in distress "

"Guess we should . . . give her some assistance, shall we not?"

Sakuin, who was still twenty feet away from the phone booth, felt her

knees buckle as she saw the two filthy-looking, villainous men approaching

her. Even though Tatewaki Kuno's 'reforming movement' had begun gaining

nation-wide attention in 2014, the crime rate of Tokyo had been . . . mild.

But still, crime was a part of human culture. Thus, on this most seedy side

of the town, a lone woman stranded on an empty street still made for an

appetizing target for street thugs.

"Wha . . . what are you two trying to do?!" Sakuin barked, trying to

sound as tough as she usually did around the office, "You know the penalty

for assault in Tokyo!"

"You've got that right, shadow-eyes." One of the men smirked as he

whipped out a rather sharp piece of pocket knife and advanced on the

wide-eyed woman. "That's why after we've robbed you clean, we would make

sure that YOU won't get the chance to spill this to the cops."

Sakuin almost broke down crying right there and then. There she was,

the most prized engineer of Onocorp, sought after by countless head-hunters

of Tokyo, only to die here in some foul, seedy looking gutter?

Oh, Chashaku-kun!!! 

[Chashaku's apartment, at the same moment

"Oh, Chashaku-kun!!!"

"URRG . . . here I come, URRRGGG!!!!"

With that, the pair on the bed both reached the peak of their pleasure

as their passion soared sky-high. After a while, they both collapsed back

down to earth as their breathings began to calm.

"Ah, Ritsuko-chan, truly you were magnificent." Chashaku said as he

signed with the tiredness that came after the intense pleasure. The woman

giggled flirtatiously in his embrace.

"Liar. You're still spending more time with that skinny, dried up woman

than with ME!"

"Oh, be reasonable," Chashaku yawned. "Sakuin is my boss: she's

basically my bread and butter. I can't refuse her pestering if I am to keep

my job."

"Like you're mine?" The woman giggled as she fondled him, and he

swatted her on her behind.

"Don't insult me," he snorted.

[Back to the dark, empty street where Sakuin was stranded

"AHHHHH!!!!!!!!" Sakuin screamed as the thugs began grabbing her

roughly.

"Heheh . . . don't waste your breath, shadow eyes. No one in this

neighbourhood will care enough to interfere - "

"Leave her."

The dry, emotionless voice from behind the thugs startled them into

turning around. They encountered a slender, long-haired girl wearing a lose

set of Chinese robes looking at them with a cold, disdainful, yet slightly

lazy look on her face, as if the very act of speaking to them was an unwise

waste of her breath. The men, were paying way to much attention to the

slender but rather shapely figure from beneath the airy robes to let that

bother them.

One of them stepped up towards her as he reached out a large hand to

tilt up her delicate chin. "Now, now, little girl, no need to look so

uptight. Why don't you let daddy make it all better huh . . . !!!"

He never got to finish off his sentence, nor did his filthy hand got to

touch that delicate chin of hers, as she rapidly tapped on his forehead with

a tiny sewing needle that he hadn't seen in her hand before. The girl

skipped backward with delicate, fluid grace and smiled tauntingly at him.

"Oi, whatever did you - "

He never got to finish off his sentence, as his head exploded in a

rather dramatic spatter of blood and brain while the girl watched with the

same smile on her face.

"I'm feeling so much better now, ojisan, arigato."

Sakuin, who was already somewhat used to such gruesome sights after

spending time around Nabiki Tendo's 'tank', merely gasped, while the other

thug opened his mouth wide and prepared to scream. Without looking, Mayako

shot the needle at him with her thumb and middle finger. It embedded itself

neatly into his forehead, causing the man to fall lifelessly onto the

ground.

"Tsk . . . and these men actually think that they were worthy to be

called criminals . . . " turning around to face Sakuin, Mayako cocked her

head to one side and asked with a rather amused looking smile, "Sakuin-san,

you looked . . . disturbed. Are you alright?"

"I . . ." Sakuin swallowed, then continued. "I'm alright."

"I'm glad," Mayako said, beautiful eyes further lengthening as her

smile blossomed, "for a moment, I thought you would have been hurt . . . or

at least scared. The streets of west-side Tokyo are just notoriously unsafe

at night these days. Why not have me escort you home?" her smile turned

increasingly flattering as she went on, "it's the least I can do for a

scientist that I've admired from afar for so long. Besides, I've always

wanted to see how the home of the greatest Genetic Engineer this side of the

globe looks like."

This time, Sakuin didn't feel quite as light-headed as she did the last

time Mayako was flattering her. Instead, she found herself shivering

slightly as realization dawned on her.

Oh GOD! She's trying to find out where I'm living! 

"By the way, Sakuin-san, about the step of the project that you are

currently working on? When do you think you can finish it up?" she leans

closer to Sakuin and stared straight into her face with sophisticated

mischief, "Certainly no obstacle on earth can delay a woman of your

abilities. Am I right, Sakuin-san?"

Sakuin simply remained speechless as her perspiration rate increased.

[Onocorp Tokyo HQ - random corridor, 2080

"Sakuin-san, I have to thank you again for kindness. Not only did you

allow me to sleep over at your place that night, but to arrange for a tour

of the mysterious Onocorp on my behalf within half a week . . . truly I am

in your debt."

"Ehehehe . . . like I have a choice in this, you little . . . well,

Otousan will take care of you, one way or the other. think nothing of it,

Mayako-chan. By the way, you look . . . very sophisticated today."

"A girl has got to look like a woman if she is to take a woman's job.

Am I right, Sakuin-san?"

". . . right . . ."

[Onocorp Tokyo HQ - Director's office, at the same moment

The Chief Executor of the Kunou Foundation and the Director of Onocorp

were having a discussion that could only be carried out in a dark, dimly lit

environment such as the one in which they found themselves.

"I paid Madame Hibiki a little visit a while ago," Gosunkugi Kyoofu said

as he cast his stale, yellowish eyes upon Ono Tanaro. "She didn't appear to

be willing to cooperate with our plans."

"I know, Kyoofu-san," Tanaro said with a slightly bowed head, not

wanting to look directly at the skull-like old man. "Just because she had

bore project R within her womb for a few months, she thinks that she owns

it. Fear not. I'll be able to convince her, as I always have. Reiraku WILL

remain under our control."

"Hmmph . . ." Kyoofu stared off into space, appearing to be deep in

thoughts . . . or schemes. Tanaro coughed uncomfortably, as he made himself

voice out his doubt about a certain person connected to Project R.

"Pardon me for speaking frankly, Kyoofu-san. But in my opinion,

Penelope isn't the only one who might be an obstacle to the fruition of

Project R . . ."

"Oh? And who else is there?"

"Kyoofu-san, I don't think Sakuin-san is particularly . . . driven to

carry out all those tests for our subjects . . ."

Kyoofu smirked ghoulishly in the dim light. "Ah . . . I see. And

you're worried on my daughter's behalf, I suppose? You're worried that she

might not have the . . . strength to carry out the task, is that it?"

"Well . . . yes, Kyoofu-san. I think we should -"

"Indeed," Kyoofu cut him off before he could continue, "we must

motivate Sakuin-chan to do what must be done. Tanaro, since you're

the one closest to her, I'm putting her in your care. She will now be your

responsibility."

Tanaro, who was hoping that Kyoofu would have removed Sakuin from the

post and allow a pawn on the Ono side to fill the gap, was visibly

disappointed.

Why that devious old ghoul- 

Kyoofu simply smiled a as suitably ghoulish smile at the younger man.

Truly, the young are no match for the old. 

The phone in the conference room rang, distracting Tanaro from

his brooding. He picked it up.

"Director Ono, speaking."

"Ono-san, Miss Gosunkugi had arrived together with an applicant for a

position at the Onocorp. She is currently giving the applicant a tour of

the facilities in the building -"

"WHAT?!"

"And she has asked for Mr. Gosunkugi and yourself to greet the applicant

by the Director's Office in 5 minutes-"

Tanaro slammed the receiver down onto the table. "What WAS she

thinking?! Onocorp isn't Disneyland! With all the research projects going on

. . . how could we possibly give a TOUR to an outsider?!?"

Kyoofu scratched his chin with his spidery, withered fingers. "She has

acted . . . hastily this time, and I shall chide her for it. But maybe,

this 'outsider' will have all the right qualifications as an 'insider' if

Sakuin is actually willing to give him such special treatment."

Knowing it will be unless to argue with the devious old fox, Tanaro

allowed himself to fume silently. A couple of minutes passed by in complete

silence, which was finally ended by the knocking on the door.

"Ono-san, Otousan," Sakuin's voice sounded stiff and nervous through

the wooden doors, "Mayako-chan here would like the opportunity to speak with

you both."

Tanaro sighed, and spoke up gruffly as he tried to hold in his anger.

"Come in."

As the door opened, he found that he didn't have to anyway, as his anger

dissolved completely at the sight beyond it.

Standing beside Sakuin was a glamorous-looking girl somewhere in her

late teens. Her beautiful dark eyes were dramatized by several different

shades of red eye shadow, making the youthful face appear to be more

sophisticated that it really was. Her long hair was braided to one side in

an elegant but complex bun, with a long ponytail flowing out of it down past

her thighs. Wearing a high-collared, black Chinese dress with slits on the

sides, her small-busted but extraordinarily well-proportioned body was shown

off spectacularly. It took every bit of will-power that Tanaro had for him

not to drool visibly at the delicious sight.

The girl smiled an enticing, demure smile as she bowed at him.

"Director Ono? Nice to meet you. Your company had done marvelous things on

behalf of the health-condition of us Japanese civilians. I am honoured by

your presence."

Tanaro bowed back hastily. Before he could say anything else, however,

an aged chuckling beat him to it.

"My, my, such a pretty little doll . . ." Kyoofu spoke animatedly

as he eyed the young girl up and down with almost undisguised lechery. "I

supposed you are my daughter's friend?"

Mayako smiled back with thinning eyes. "Sakuin-san is a very

spectacular person, Gosunkugi Ojisama. I consider myself extremely lucky to

have made her acquaintance."

Kyoofu grinned. Another pretty-looking girl trying to go to higher

places by sucking up to him . . . a testament of his power over the others.

He reached out his spidery, withered hand to try and touch her young,

flawless face, but she had chosen just that moment to step back and bow

formally at him.

"Gosunkugi Kyoofu . . . Chief Executor of the noble Kunou Foundation,

what an honour it is for a little girl like me to meet someone of your rank

and importance." Mayako then turned to Director Ono and Sakuin with a

slightly guilty smile on her face. "Mind if Kyoofu-san and I have a private

moment to ourselves? There are many questions that I have longed to ask a

man that only a week ago was beyond my reach." Noticing Tarano's darkening

look, she smiled mischievously and gave him a sultry glance. "The same goes

for you too, Director Ono. Right after this . . . please?"

Tanaro's displeasure was drained away as Sakuin simply stared at Mayako

incredulously. She's not just an ambitious girl, but an ambitious SLUT

girl!

Heh, if only she knew how many before her had offered Otousan their

services in vain . . . Oh well, either way, Otousan will get rid of her.

Even SHE can't stand a chance against the silent dictator of Onocorp. 

"Very well," Kyoofu spoke up, never taking his eyes off Mayako, "I will

speak to the young lady alone. After all, I'm sure that I am qualified to

satisfy a young woman's . . . curiosity."

At hearing that, Sakuin and Tanaro left the office and left Kyoofu and

Mayako do whatever they please in the room. Kyoofu's expression turned

openly lustful as he stepped towards the girl, who was currently facing away

from him with delicately pinching her lower lip with a hand.

"Bold . . . willing to take the first step . . . I like that in a

woman." He got a hold Mayako's shoulder and roughly (as roughly as he could

with his weak old body) turned her around to assault her delicate ,

blood-red lips with his own wrinkled ones . . . while totally missing the

eerie glint of light in her dark eyes.

Before he knew it, his nose was clamped shut. As his mouth opened wider

in surprise, Mayako's breath, along with . . . something, rushed into his

mouth. He quickly pulled away, gagging a little as he realized that

something was making its way down his throat. Mayako leaned back against

the office table and leisurely studied the various decorated corners on

the ceiling with an amused smile on her face.

"Happy now, Gosunkugi-ojisan?" She chuckled. "Really, Japanese males

never cease to amaze me with their feistiness . . . even at such an advanced

age. Must be the climate of the country . . . or could it be something in

their genetics?"

After the thing had went down his protesting throat completely, Kyoofu

regained his composure and began thinking clearly once again. She must have

put whatever that . . . thing was into her mouth while she was pretending to

scratch her lower lip! Looking as coldly as he could with his skull-like

face, he stared into the girl's eyes, trying to intimidate her.

"What was that that you've just fed me, girl?"

"An intimate gift," Mayako said with dark playfulness, looking totally

unfazed in the face of one of the most powerful men of Japan, "that

Malaysian women sometimes use on their beloved husbands."

Kyoofu smirked. So the girl had decided to mess with his mind now, eh?

Truly, the young were too stupid for their own good.

Pressing down on a button, he spoke up. "Security, come up to the

director's office at once."

His confident smirk faded slowly as he saw what Mayako was holding in

her delicate hand.

"My, it appears that the wire of the emergency button has been severed,"

she said with a taunting smile, "and the other little toys that this place

got had all malfunctioned moments ago, how terribly tragic."

"What . . . toys?" Kyoofu asked coldly.

Mayako smiled back at him. "The hidden cameras at the corners of the

ceiling, the recorders from inside this desk, the phone, the hidden metal

detectors at the door . . . in fact, anything remotely mechanical that was

operating was destroyed once the others left this room. I've probably

cleaned up a few hidden bugs for you in the process as well."

Kyoofu silently cursed as he realized that some traitors within the

Cooperation had leaked out the secrets regarding the hidden devices of the

director's office. Looked down at his own watch, his sunken eyes widened as

he saw that the numbers on it were all wrong. Taking a step back, he glared

at the smiling girl.

"The newest anti-mechanic device . . . how did a little girl like you

manage to get your hands on something like that?"

Mayako didn't answer. Instead, she said something that almost shocked

the 75-year-old into a heart attack.

"Remaining proud and angry even as you are losing your advantage over me

. . . how utterly unlike your father you are."

"What do you know about my father?!" Kyoofu demanded.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out, elder-chan. But know

that in a way, he was a wiser man than you are now: he didn't have your

tendency to step on people's toes quite as frequently." Mayako said as she

turned around and began walking towards the door. "Oh, as for the details

regarding the gift that I had so intimately given you? You shall find out

within three days. By then, I shall come again. Get Tanaro to prepare a

contract to sigh me up as the Chief Tactician of Onocorp, as well as

the legal authority to command the KF assassin squad as well as the Ono

Intelligence Section: I am well aware of WHO is truly in power in this

organization."

Kyoofu laughed an angry, edgy laugh. "If you think you can make it out

this building alive, then go ahead. Otherwise, I would strongly suggest you

to come back and rid me of that thing you've made me swallow."

Mayako looked over one shoulder at the old man as if he was an annoying,

stupid child that wasn't worth her time to deal with. "Sadly for you, I

don't think 'I' am the one to worry about my well-being at this moment.

Considering the . . . what's the term, yes, exponential rate at which my

'gift' shall multiply inside you, I don't think you'll have enough blood in

your old, weak body to sustain all of them by the end of the fourth day. Oh,

and say goodbye to Sakuin-san for me? Tell her that I have to leave early

to go meet some relatives . . . or something along the line. I trust that

you won't be stupid enough to tell her about my gift? Sayonara."

With that, she pushed open the office door and casually walked outside

into the corridor. Provoked by fear and rage, Kyoofu shouted out to several

random guards chattering at the far end of the hallway, startling them with

the frantic-edge in his voice: in the past, no matter how chilling the

order, he had always given them in an oily, sing-song voice.

"Arrest her!!"

The guards, although reluctant to hurt the frail looking girl in front

of them, none the less raised their guns at her.

"Freeze!!"

The girl, however, kept on walking with a rather cold smile on her face

as she stared at them as if they were insects.

"Out of my way."

One of the guards had began pulling on his trigger, but before he could,

a blinding green light flashed out from the girl's body . . . and all of

them creased to be alive before they even knew it. A couple of smoking,

badly charred corpses were left, whereas the walls around them had all been

burned into black, fragile coal.

"You all have to thank me for being merciful," Mayako said as she

continued to walk away from the now extremely heated corridor without ever

stopping, "I have made your deaths quick . . . if a bit painful for a split

second."

Kyoofu, meanwhile, was opening and closing his aged jaws like a goldfish

. . . or a toy skeleton snapper as he witnessed what had just happened in

front of his very eyes.

"The Shishi Houkodan . . . that's . . . not possible."

Mayako simply kept on walking with her feminine, delicate sway as she

replied without turning around. "If you could have mistaken THAT for a

Shishi Houkodan, then I have no idea how in the world would you expect to

ever succeed in your current project. Oh, and be assured that you WILL pay

for this foolish, insolent trick that you've just pulled. Have fun cleaning

up the corridor."

With that, she made a right turn, and was gone from Kyoofu's field of

vision as the latter sank to his knees.

"Deity . . ."

[Kunou Foundation - Private Computer Clusters , a day afterwards

"Mr. Gosunkugi, the girl's address . . . does exist, but . . ."

"What?"

"But we can't trace her personal data."

Rubbing at his temples impatiently, Kyoofu grunted as he fought against

his burning urge to just strangle the Foundation's hacker right there and

then. He spoke up in a voice that lowed the room temperature by at least 20

degrees : "And exactly why is that, pray tell?"

The hacker gulped as he continued in a trembling voice: "it . . . it

doesn't exist."

"You mean to tell me that girl has managed to own a piece of private

property, a bachelor's degree in Genetic Engineering and Biology, and she

has NO personal data?"

"Umm . . . from what the central data bank showed, that was the case."

Kyoofu then turned to the K.F. Intelligence Agent standing beside him.

"And you, have you not managed to track down the whereabouts of the girl

yet?"

"No, Sir" the man replied hesitantly, "she disappeared after you last

saw her."

Kyoofu gritted his yellowing teeth. It had been a day since that

girl calling herself Mayako had given him that . . . little something that

had wiggled down his throat. Immediately, he went for a check-up, but found

that nothing is unusual in his . . . bodily waste samples. Yet, that thing,

even if it had been digested, should have left traces of itself in his . . .

bodily wastes. The fact that the samples were normal meant that it was

still somehow inside his body.

He had hoped that he could have his underlings go and kidnap some of her

relatives to blackmail her with, but it turned out she didn't even have a

personal data in the central data bank. He had sent people to check up on

the university. They claimed that the diplomas were true, but yet, they

have no background record on that particular student. In fact, it was

almost like she had just appeared out of thin air, and was now swallowed up

by the earth . . . such a horrifically mysterious child.

That technique that she had used . . . indeed it wasn't Ryouga's fabled

technique. Ryouga's blast created an outward force, while hers generated

intense heat. The only thing known about the Shishi Houkodan was that it

was a technique developed in a certain mountain area of Japan, but which?

Ryouga, when he was alive, didn't even remember exactly WHERE it was that

the mysterious construction worker had passed on the technique to him.

Either way, there is still NO way in hell that he'd just allow a child

like that to take over the KF and Onocorp. She was but one person, while

the agents of the KF were everywhere around the city . . .

A sharp gasp startled the man out of his train of thought. He looked up

into the face of the terrified agent and asked: "What is it?!"

The man pointed at the wrinkled, veined, back of his hand. Kyoofu took

a look and hissed.

Under the wrinkled skin, a budge was . . . worming its way through the

path of one of the major veins. Immediately recognizing it for what it was,

Kyoofu immediately tapped two fingers down on either side of the wiggling

budge as he screamed out to the agent: "Get a sharp blade and cut open my

vein along the edge of my middle finger!"

The agent looked hesitant.

"Sir . . . sir?"

"DO IT!"

Knowing the price of disobedience, the man immediately produced a razor

sharp pocket-knife and put a small incision over the indicated area, cutting

the vein on the back of the wrinkled hand open . . .

. . . and a red, tiny worm with rows of segments around its fat body

squeezed itself out of the cut, causing the agent to back away quickly.

"Sample bag . . ." Kyoofu grit his teeth in pain as he forced the

worm, along with some blood, further out of his vein. At last the thing,

about an inch long was completely outside his wound, and began to crawl

rather lazily up one of his wrinkled fingers. The agent handed him a bag

while tactfully keeping as far away from the hand as possible. Kyoofu

flicked the bloody worm into the bag and sealed it up immediately. Putting

down the bag, he took out his handkerchief and pressed it down towards his

wound. The hacker as well as the agent were both disturbed by the strange

smile on the man's lips.

"You two continue on your respective duties while I am gone."

With that command, the old man took the bag and exited the room in much

lighter steps than he had while coming in. The hacker and the intelligence

agent took a look at each other, then shrugged it off and went back to their

respective duties.

[Sakuin's apartment, at the same time

"Oh, Chashaku-kun, but I'm so looking forward to spending this upcoming

weekend with you!" Sakuin whined at the phone-ear in her hand. The reply

came in a tone of voice that was bordering on impatience.

"I know, Sakuin-san, I'm sad too. But there are things that I need to .

. . to do."

Sakuin's voice was shill as she replied: "What things?! I want to spent

more time with you!"

"I . . . oh my, the garbage man has come to pick up the waste bags.

Talk to you later! click! "

"Cha . . . Chashaku-kun! Wait!"

Sighing sadly, Sakuin said to herself: "I guess I will just have to make

time on my own then. Thank God Otousan is in complete control of Onocorp.

Chashaku-kun, we SHALL have another date before the week ends!"

[Chashaku's apartment, at the same time

"So, I am to be the garbage man now, am I?" The scantly clad woman

standing outside the door pouted as Chashaku smiled.

"Come, Aniko-chan, I'm feeling an urge to . . . 'depose'."

" giggle Oh, you naughty boy, you!"

With that, the two began fooling around without bothering to pull up the

drapes due to the lack of other buildings in the direction of the

apartment's window . . .

. . . which explains why a slender girl hanging upside-down outside the

window could tape down the lewd game with the mini-visual recorder in her

hand as a calculating smirk formed on her glamorous, crimson lips. She

didn't enjoy the scene: the man was too old and uselessly ignorant for her

liking. Yet, she knew that it would come in handy later, should the need of

eliminating a potential obstacle arrive.

[Onocorp Tokyo HQ - random lab

Looking at the worm, now lying lifelessly on a piece of watch glass, the

biologist working under Onocorp frowned as he studied the creature. "Really,

in all my career, I haven't encountered a parasite like this. It seemed to

be a hybrid between a leech and a fluke . . . something that couldn't have

existed in nature."

"Whatever it is, just tell me how to kill it off once it had entered a

human's body." Kyoofu said impatiently.

"Well," the biologist scratched his chin, "this could be challenging.

You see, this parasite is unique in that it inhabits the blood stream. And

er . . ."

The biologist looked at Kyoofu hesitantly, and the old man felt a chill

ran through him as the implication sank in.

"Go on," he ordered in a cracking voice.

"Whatever attempt to poison it will also poison your blood . . . an I

don't think you want that, sir."

Out of a corner of his eye, he saw several budges worming through

the veins on his wrist, and grit his teeth in anger and revulsion.

"Indeed I don't," Kyoofu said in an edgy voice. "Keep this incident

confidential, and keep on working at a cure. See to it that you succeed

within two days."

With that, the old man exited the room.

The biologist sweated at his command. He had hesitated in telling the

KF Executor about the small budge moving up the major artery on his

wrinkled neck in hopes of calming him, but it appeared that it was no use.

Knowing that a cure, or even a means to control the worms' growth wasn't

possible by Onocorp's technology, he prayed that the worst would come was

only removal from his post. After all, every employee of Onocorp knew of

its nasty habit of 'silencing' old employees to make sure that they don't

spill any secrets of the corporation to other organizations of concern.

[Onocorp Tokyo Base - Director's office, two more days afterwards

Tanaro had a rather odd look on his face as he stared at Kyoofu, now

clad in a cloak that covered up everything under it aside from the pair of

huge sunglasses on his face. After a while, he spoke up with a falsely

jocular expression:

"My, springtime in the winter days. I never knew you'd had it that bad

for a young girl . . . is that the reason for the change of fashion as well?

I must say it takes years off you -"

Kyoofu's subtle but dramatic growl cut him off in mid-sentence, forcing

him to trail off uncomfortably.

"Um . . . heh . . . anyway, the contract that you asked me to prepared

for the girl is here. Pretty soon, we're going to have one VERY happy

teenage girl at our Corporation . . ."

Just then, a gentle knocking could be heard from the door as a rather

husky voice spoke up politely: "Mind if I come in?"

"AH! Come in, Mayako-chan."

With that, the sophisticatedly garbed girl stepped into the room and

shot a sideways glance at Kyoofu before turning back to Tanaro with a polite

smile on her face. Kyoofu could have sworn that she had smirked in that

split instance as he trembled with anger. Mayako ignored him as she spoke

with Tanaro: "I couldn't believe it: just out of University and already the

Chief Tactician of Onocorp. It feels almost unreal."

"Don't worry, Mayako-chan. Your . . . talents have been recognized by

the Corporation, thus earned you a place as one of us. Congratulations."

"Arigato," she said while bowing formally at him, "from this day on, I

shall contribute all that I have into my work to ensure Onocorp's inevitable

triumph in the business world of Japan."

Tanaro laughed. "Ah, you surely are ambitious, my girl."

"As is everybody else fueling this organization," Mayako smiled back as

she straightened, "I might as well be mature about this if I'm to survive in

the real world."

Sakuin, dragging a resigned looking Chashaku behind her, entered the

office without knocking. "Otousan, Chashaku and I would like a day off to

go research at Tokyo's Virtual Reality Central Library . . ." Her sentence

trailed off in mid-air as the unexpected sight of Mayako entered her now

impossibly wide eyes. "Ma . . Mayako-chan . . ."

"Sakuin-san, guess what? Director Ono had agreed to sign me up as the

Chief Tactician of Onocorp." Mayako said merrily as she began reading over

the contract and signing various parts of it.

Sakuin's eyes widened as she heard that, ". . . really? How . . . nice

of him." She then turned to her father with a slightly edgy look on her

face: "Otousan . . . isn't this just so . . . NICE?"

"Indeed," Kyoofu replied in a dry voice, "a young lady of her talents

and . . . intelligence certainly deserves a significant position in the

Onocorp."

"Ah, I see that being good looking and female does have a certain

advantage in the practical business world." Chashaku was feeling sour at the

fact that Mayako had gotten herself a job that much higher-ranking than his

own by (he thought) sleeping with the Chief Executor of the KF, and couldn't

help making a smart remark.

Without taking her eyes off the contract, Mayako replied calmly. "As is

being attractive and male: it all depends on the preference and desire of

the people in power. Wouldn't you say, Chashaku-san?"

Taken back by the subtle counter, which hit much too close to home to

his liking, Chashaku kept quiet.

As Mayako was signing her contract, Tanaro looked over her shoulder to

see what she was putting in. He raised an eyebrow as he saw her full name

for the very first time.

"Nikumi Mayako?" he asked.

"Nikumi Mayako," the girl said as she finished up the contract and

handed it to him with a smile, "Chief Tactician of Onocorp, at your

service."

Kyoofu coughed impatiently. "Mayako-san, aren't you . . . forgetting

something?"

Mayako smiled sultrily at the strangely garbed old man, "Please be

patient, Gosunkugi-san. We can continue where we left off after I've

finished my first day of work. Maybe you can wait for me at the Foundation

sometime tonight?" Turning back to Director Ono, she requested: "Please do

show me my office."

"Of course." Tanaro smiled as he got a perverse satisfaction in the

fact that the All-mighty Gosunkugi was now degraded into a helpless old man

who could be disrespected by a young girl of eighteen.

Truly, lust is the root of all weaknesses. 

"A secretary will be assigned to you soon: she will be handling the more

trivial parts of your work, taking phone-calls and all . . . the Personnel

Department will bring the candidate to you by tomorrow."

" chuckle How considerate of you, Director."

"Don't make me wait too long tonight . . ." Kyoofu growled at the happy-

looking girl, who didn't even seem to have heard him. Exchanging

pleasantries and meaningful glances, Chief Tactician Nikumi and Director Ono

exited the scene merrily, leaving a disbelieving couple and a very enraged

old man in the office.

Sakuin stared at her father for a moment, then spoke up with a rather

curious expression on her face: "Otousan . . . why?"

Kyoofu gritted his teeth as he replied: "Mayako had shown me that she

had the . . . tactical abilities for the job. She will serve us well."

"I'm not asking you about that, Otousan. I'm asking you about your new

look. What's with the cloak and the sunglasses and the . . . " Sakuin

sweated as she went on, "you're wearing aprons?"

Kyoofu's only reply was a low, animalistic growl, which startled Sakuin

and froze Chashaku's blood. Quickly, he began to drag the girl towards the

door.

"Er . . . C'mon now, Sakuin-chan, let's not tease your father about

this. . . heheh . . . So long, Gosunkugi-sama!"

The couple hastily exited the room, allowing Kyoofu to fume by

himself in the dark. Slamming a covered hand onto the desk, a word of

contempt came out between his gritting teeth:

"Bitch . . ."

[Onocorp Tokyo Base - Office of Genetic Research Department, a week later

"It's over . . . all over now . . . all over before it ever begin . . ."

The once immaculate office was now barely above a hazard zone. The desktop

computer was smashed in by a phone's ear, causing shards of glass to litter

all over the desk and the chair. The binders and paper files were all lying

around the floor in random, untidy disarrays, as were the Computer disks.

Amidst the ruin sat a distraught looking woman with swollen, shadow-framed

eyes, staring at everything and nothing within the small, enclosed space as

she mumbled incoherently.

"Gone . . . all gone . . . he's gone to another . . ." tears dripped

down her sunken cheeks together with her eye-liner, making her face even

more eerie-looking than usual. It didn't matter. She had stopped caring

about the way she looked the morning when she arrived at the office to

discover a half-dozen tapes detailing the private life of one Chashaku

Daimonji lying on her desk.

She had, of course, angrily confronted him about betraying her, and he

had retorted that he was never HERS to begin with, that a boss have no right

to interfere with an employee's private life . . .

. . . after all the promotions she had given him, all the time she had

devoted into securing his position for him . . .

. . . all the emotions she had extracted in loving him . . .

A pair of slender arms encircled her from behind, startling her.

Before she could yelp, a long, delicate finger tapped itself onto her lips,

silencing her.

"There's no need to feel sad just because a man had betrayed your love."

The familiar husky voice breathed into her ear, further fueling her anger.

"What would YOU know, Nikumi? You regard men as your own tools, you've

never even felt for any of them: Otousan, Ono, they're but tools to secure

your power in Onocorp! You don't care for any of them!"

"That's right, Sakuin-san." Mayako purred intimately as she hugged

Sakuin even tighter. "That's why I'm not the one breaking down into pieces

now, why I'm not the one foolish enough to let something this trivial

seriously hurt me now."

Sakuin tried to throw Mayako off her back. But somehow, her body seemed

to have gone a great deal weaker after feeling a poke to the back of her

neck. Mayako continued to speak in her husky, mysterious voice: "Don't you

see? To give your heart to a man is to beg him to crush it while your back

is turned. Don't you know that, Sakuin-san? Remember how the story

regarding the Bracelet of Amazon was really a fake? Remember how the ninja

robbed the bracelet from the girl and told the world that she gave it to him

willingly? Men are not meant to be trusted: they're meant to be used."

Sakuin became very , very still as she heard that.

Releasing her from behind, Mayako walked around to look down at the

woman with a look of pity on her beautiful face. After studying her for a

while, she spoke up again:

"Sakuin-san . . . remember that night when I've saved you from the

street thugs? Remember that little trick that I pulled?"

The scene of the man's head exploding at a peck of a needle replayed

itself in Sakuin's mind again as her eyes widened.

Smiling faintly, Mayako leaned down so that the two of them were almost

face to face. Her breath was sweet and soothing to Sakuin's senses as she

spoke up again.

"That was an obscure Chinese technique related to the Amazons, a

technique that works on bones as well as rocks. It shatters the bones, and

sends the shrapnel through the nerves, imbedding them within the flesh. The

victim suffers severe pain and internal injuries."

An image of Chashaku howling in agony as his bones shattered within his

flabby, middle aged body entered Sakuin's mind, and her face flushed with

passion: the same kind of passion that drives a woman to fall in love in the

first place.

Mayako noted her reaction, and her eyes lengthened with her blossoming

smile as she whispered huskily:

"If you so desire, I can teach you the technique . . . for you to use it

on him."

Tears of deranged joy sprang down Sakuin's cheeks as she hugged the girl

tightly to herself while crying into her chest. Mayako's smooth, tender

hand now seemed terribly soothing as it ran across her's own short hair.

"It would be so much fun," Mayako chuckled, "almost like you're falling

in love with him all over again; only better. And this time, you won't be

the one at the receiving end of pain. Are you looking forward to it,

Sakuin-san?"

"Yes . . ." Sakuin breathed with an eerie smile on her flushed, teary

face.

"Good, then all that you need now is to wait for an opportunity to

execute your plan: choose wisely and you will have the corporation's support

in his downfall."

Sakuin nodded as Mayako smiled to herself. Chashaku, the Japanese man

who had dared insult her would soon pay for his insolence: he should have

known better than to try and disrespect her like that. And what was even

better, in her current state Sakuin would likely degenerate into a useful

pawn. Two birds with one stone . . . how absolutely beautiful.

As for Kyoofu, she would just keep on giving him those antidotes that can

control and slow down the growth of the worm population in his body, but

not kill off all of it. From now on, every time near a certain time of

the month, the worms will resurface onto the veins layering his skin, making

it almost impossible for him to be seen in public without concealing all of

himself. A merciful punishment, considering that he had tried touching

someone like her despite his exterior and interior ugliness . . .

. . . considering how much she hated Japanese men.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Epilogue

[Department of Exploratory History - Tokyo University, 2080

Drifting through the dark, empty exhibition hall of Tokyo University

like a melancholic shadow, the frail-looking girl felt a deep sadness

stabbing into her heart. The Amazon-related antiques brought back memories

of events two centuries young in her ancient heart. . .

Memories of the ninja's incredible skill in the art . . .

Of the Amazon's own unparalleled skill . . .

Of his handsomeness . . .

Of her beauty . . .

Of his beautiful, flattering praises . . .

Of her trusting, naive heart . . .

Finally, of how he had raided the village after gaining her trust;

shattering her heart as he yanked her family heirloom out of her bruised

wrist.

The once beautiful bracelet, now having lost all three pieces of its

"decorative jade", was but a mocking parody of its former self. Just like a

once-powerful old woman with her eyes plucked out . . . the Love-Pill

Bracelet was of no use to anybody anymore.

The old woman, now healed, empowered and rejuvenated by a Jusenkyo

curse, decided to end its misery with a strong, concentrated heat blast,

shattering its glass case and slowly melting it back into the mass of

metal from which it had been fashioned. Tears glistened in her now

beautiful, haunting dark eyes as the bracelet dissolved.

"I set you free. No longer shall you be a testament to fabricated lies:

that's my job now."

Khu Lon, now known as Nikumi Mayako, turned away from the shattered

glass and disappeared into the darkness of the unlit exhibition hall.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Time for an admission

The king is good as dead

The height of his ambition

Should be to die in bed

Feverish, corrosive

The fickle crowds are gone

The caravan moves on."

-Tim Rice

END FATALE


	16. Little Reiraku

LITTLE REIRAKU

[Tokyo, 2080

"Enjoy your day, Master Hibiki."

"I will!" shouted Reiraku, as he grabbed his satchel, sprang from

the car's back seat and bolted towards the playground.

He was oblivious to the fact that the vehicle whose paint he'd

just chipped was a vintage luxury model (a REAL automobile; not a

hovercar), or that the person he'd just so casually dismissed was a

private chauffeur earning more than all his teachers put together.

All that his six-year-old mind could focus on was that, at least

for the next eight hours, he was FREE. The teachers might make him do

work, but that was fun... Their stories would take him all over the

world (he'd often surprise them by telling them how many of those sites

he'd actually BEEN at), and even the math, and the words... Even those

were better than...

It just didn't FEEL right. Since obaasan had moved in, everything

was much DARKER, much more SERIOUS. Okaasan would sit around, and look

sad, and stare at him, and she would hold him anymore, and she'd warn

him, not ask him about school, and... and... And then there was chichi.

He'd just ignore everyone, and keep his head in those books of his.

Okaasan, otaasan, they BOTH paid attention to him. ALL the time. Just

not in the right way; in the way they had before. He felt like one of

the animals on the road that get hit and then everyone goes out during

recess to see them. It was the same. You look at them, you talk about

them, you poke it, but you never talk TO it, 'cause it's dead, and dead

things don't answer, and they're cold, and...

"Reiraku! Over here!"

Toshi. The black-haired boy grinned. He was always good for a

laugh.

"Konnichiwa, Toshi!" He tossed his book-bag aside and sprinted to

meet his friend."Whaddya have planned today? Another turtle?"

"Nah. I think I'll stay quiet a while. Miss Ika's STILL angry

'bout the last time."

"Then whaddya call me for?" Reiraku grinned and punched his friend

in the shoulder.

"Actually," said Toshi, adjusting his glasses. "I DO have

somethin' to... Well... It's not ME..."

His eyes got THAT look. It meant trouble for someone, and right

now it seemed to the Hibiki that he was the target.

"Not YOU?"

Was that a smirk or a smile?

"BATYA wanted to talk to you."

"BATYA?!? But... She's... She's a... I mean... I never... I

can't..."

A short pony-tailed figure stepped out from behind a tree.

"Girl?" she asked.

"A... G... Gi... Gir... I... uh... ah..."

Now he was SURE it was a smile. A BIG one.

"Go on, Batya. I got 'im ready. You finish the deal."

"Deal? But I... I..."

The FEMALE walked up to him.

And hugged him.

Reiraku felt a trickle of blood run down his cheek, and then

nothing at all, as he fainted.

"Told ya he'd do a nosebleed AND a faint. You owe me a lollipop,

Toshi."

"C'mon, Yuko! I got the fainting part right!"

"It was all or nothin', sweetums. An' Batya gets her cut, too."

"I thought she was doing this because she lost that OTHER bet

to you!"

"Hey; even SHE needs to be rewarded for doin' somethin' THAT

disgustin'."

"How much?"

"Three biscuit sticks. The strawberry-coated kind. I think she's

allergic to chocolate."

"Aaaaaaaaaawww..."

Reiraku slowly rose from his involuntary sleep. He mustn't have

been out for long... Looked like school still hadn't started... And

those voices.

Figured.

Of COURSE Kurenai Yuko would be involved in this.

Let ONE tiny thing about yourself slip, let ONE tiny rumour slip

out on the jungle gym, and she'd take profit of it, you could be sure.

Funnily enough, she was the only g... The only non-boy he DIDN'T

have trouble with. Probably 'cause she acted so tomboyish-like.

"He's awake."

A scowl was his answer.

"I think he's mad," said Toshi.

"It's not like he wasn't EXPECTING it. Geeze, even the NURSE had

a call from 'is parents to warn 'er 'bout it. Right, 'Raku?"

Silence.

"Oh, well. Time for school, anyway. You've made at least one GIRL

very happy, Hibiki." She waved her lollipop proudly. "And after today,

you'll have tons more giggling. For WEEKS."

Yuko was lucky he didn't hit girls. Especially girls who were three

years older than he was, and trained in karate. If it weren't for that,

she'd be in trouble.

The school bell rang.

Toshi grabbed him by the arm, to pull him up, and let go with a

yelp.

"Somethin' wrong?" asked Kurenai.

"He's HOT again."

"When he gets steamed up, he's not kiddin'... Otta be a law 'bout

runnin' fevers that high."

"I'm FINE."

"Sure you are. Anyway... Just be sure to calm down before you get

to class, 'kay? Unless you WANT to be sent to the infirmary. You know

who they have as helpers THERE all the time."

"Nani?"

"Sure. An' they get to look you over REAL carefully. They'll take

your pulse, and your heartbeat, and..."

There was a barely audible 'pop' in the middle of his face, and

a slight crimson streak streamed down to his upper lip.

"Knew it."

"You're cruel, Yuko." Toshi pushed his glasses back up and put his

hand to Reiraku's forehead. "An' you're only makin' him hotter."

"That's none of MY business. I already HAVE my lollipop." She

winked, and then darted off to the higher years' section of the school.

The monitor strolled up.

"You're going to be late for Assembly, young men."

"I.. Uh..."

"Move. NOW."

Hands on her hips. That meant business.

"Hai, sensei!" the two boys said in unison. Reiraku pulled himself

up and dusted off his clothes as best he could, picked up his satchel

and ran to the meeting hall.

"Wait up!" shouted his companion.

At least he had THAT going for him. No matter how much they teased

'im, he was the fastest runner in the first five years. Which came in

awful handy a lot of the time.

Not bad, so far. Boring, but not bad.

The Assembly had dragged on like all the others... An oath of

allegiance to the principles of the Global Saviour, then singing that

'Hymn to Sacrifice', an' finally Tendo Memorial's own school song.

That one was nice. The girls were starin' at him the WHOLE time, but

he didn't let it bother him. He blushed a little, ok, but that was IT.

Nothing else.

Really.

As for class... It was geography. Usually, his favourite, but

today they were just talkin' bout all these different places in Japan,

and he'd BEEN to most of them already. Osaka, Yokohama...

"So, Reiraku," started the teacher. Again. "You've been THERE,

as WELL?"

"Told ya. Many times. There's this ramen stand in the middle of

a park, and..."

"On a trip with your parents?"

"Nah. I usually get there when I'm at someone else's house an'

I look for the bathroom."

The whole of the classroom giggled. Why'd they never BELIEVE him?

It's not like he MEANT to end up in all those places...

"I've told you time and time again, young man," said his teacher,

now sporting an angry look, "That it is MOST improper to lie in that

fashion. Regardless of whether you ARE a HIBIKI or not, I'm afraid I'll

have to..."

A knock at the door.

Fuman-sensei cleared his throat and opened it.

"Yes?" he asked the visitor, who was invisible to the class.

During a brief, inaudible exchange, the teacher paled by several

shades.

"Yes. Of COURSE I will. No... No problem at all..." He turned back

to his pupils. "Reiraku? It's your mother. She needs to take you for

another blood test."

The hovercar ride was silent. Reiraku was buried against the

soft leather of the back seat, keeping himself busy by playing with

his thumbs, while his mother kept her eyes firmly on the road, her

thin brown hair never swaying, never moving, just staying still.

She only spoke once, when they reached a red light.

"You WILL remember your training," she intoned, not looking back

at him.

"Hai, okaasama."

"You have STUDIED for this test. I have prepared you. You must

not fail." A pause, as she shifted gears. "You must be STRONG, Reiraku."

Every syllable of his name was pronounced crisply and clearly; it gave

him the same feeling he got when he bit into celery straight out of the

fridge. When okaasan said it, it never sounded like a name; more like

a promise.

"I... I'll be strong, okaasan."

"Good."

"The automobile started up again, and threaded its terrestrial way

through the rows of slowly-moving hovercars.

At the clinic, the doors opened for them automatically. He'd often

asked why he couldn't be taken with a regular hospital, but the only

answer he'd ever gotten from any adult was a cold glare. It only took

a few of THOSE to teach him that it was better to stay silent, and not

make too many questions. ESPECIALLY to obaasan.

"So glad to see you, Penelope." Ono-oji-san was there to meet

them.

"The kid's already been poked this month, Tanaro. Why the second

test?"

"We... Need to ascertain certain things, and..."

"And Kyoofu's up to his loony ideas again, isn't he?"

"Penelope!"

"ENOUGH, ANI! Everyone KNOWS he has you tied around his little

finger; if he asked you to bark like a dog, you'd be in the pound the

next day."

It was always like this. Whenever he came, the two would fight,

saying words he didn't want to hear, and arguing about things he didn't

understand.

"Gosunkugi has kept this company together for this long, imooto."

Oji-san calmly cleared his throat and smoothed his blue-grey suit. "If

it weren't for him, Onocorp would..."

"Onocorp is no longer my concern. I'm a HIBIKI now."

"Oh, no?" Oji-san smiled, and ruffled Reiraku's hair.

"I'm not doing this for Onocorp."

"Just for the Onos? To serve one is to please the other."

"Gosunkugi's in his seventies. How can you still think that that..

That that withered... That prune... How could you think that he's

still..."

A light came on down the hall.

"Ah," said Tanaro. "I see Sakuin is ready for us."

She was.

Light reflected from the perfectly polished white walls of the

room, making it impossible to make out most details, but SHE was one

thing that Reiraku could see in PERFECT clarity.

She wore a surgeon's pastel green gown, cap and mask. White latex

gloves and thick-lensed goggles covered the rest of her human features,

with the exception of a bun of wispy black hair sticking out in the

back.

She was eerie; supernatural. She never spoke, and merely did what

she was told, silently, efficiently, without complaint...

When they walked in, she took the boy by the shoulders and propped

him onto a metal chair, then placed restraining straps around his arms

and legs.

"You don't have to lock him in."

"We do, after the last time. When it comes to enduring pain, your

child has proven QUITE the disappointment."

Today, he wouldn't fail them. He'd had training. He knew what to

do. It wouldn't hurt. It COULDN'T.

That didn't mean he couldn't fear it.

Sakuin opened a chest of drawers, the same type found all over

the clinic, and searched through its contents, finally plucking from

the frame a long, silvered tube.

"Tanaro! That's not a syringe! What are you going to?!?"

Oji-san put his right hand on his mother's shoulder, and his

left over her mouth.

Reiraku remembered this device.

He remembered it well.

The boy began to scream.

Penelope tore away from her brother's grip and hunched over her

son.

"Don't... Don't make a sound... Be quiet, or..."

"If the boy can't even stand the SIGHT of the sample collector,

how is he EVER going to accomplish his primary goal, imooto?"

"He'll go through with it," she said to him, then whispered to

Reiraku, "You MUST be strong. For both our sakes. And obaasan's."

Obaasan... To upset her would be bad. On the best of days,

she was grim, and uncaring, and scary. When she was upset...

"I'll try, okaasan."

"Good..."

"Let Sakuin do her work, Penelope."

She moved back, somewhat reluctantly, and watched as the attendant

finished the sterilisation of the instrument.

That done, she wiped the target area on Reiraku's arm with an

alcohol swab, and pressed the machine to the site.

A trigger was pulled, and he could feel the metallic claw digging

into his flesh, ripping out a chunk of meat, and vein, and blood. He

grit his teeth, and closed his eyes, but did not make a sound.

Okaasan's eyes widened as she looked at the resulting wound.

"You MONSTER! What did you do?!?"

"This is an advanced test. We needed a segment of one of his main

veins, along with blood, lymph and meat."

"DO SOMETHING! He'll BLEED to death!"

Tanaro smirked.

"He'll have to heal from a lot worse than this before we're

through with him."

Sakuin ignored the commotion, and merely placed the sample into

the appropriate test tube, using a tongue depressor to get every last

bit off the collection claw.

"You can't just LEAVE him like that!" Penelope undid her scarf,

preparing to tourniquet the site.

"No need to get that dirty. Sakuin! Tend to the boy!"

The green-clad robot (she wasn't human, no matter WHAT they asked

him to believe), nodded, and placed a patch of medicated Nu-skin on the

target area.

"That should do it... Now... Now we'll have to ask you to leave."

"WHAT?!?"

"We have to conduct more tests. Alone."

"Tanaro!"

"Listen to him. You are not needed here. Or wanted." A new voice.

An old man had walked into the room, supporting his wizened,

white-haired frame on two wooden canes. He'd seen him once or twice

before.

Ono oji-san bowed.

"Gosunkugi-san."

"It's Kyoofu to you, Tanaro. We work closely enough for that."

"Hai, Kyoofu-san."

The old man turned his wrinkled face to okaasan.

"We regret this, Madame Hibiki, but we really CANNOT let you stay."

"Why not? I have alpha plus clearance."

"For Project R."

"Yes. For project R. And I want to stay with my Reiraku."

"We will be dealing with things OTHER than project R."

A pause.

"NANI?"

"I have already said too much. You must leave, HIBIKI-san. If

you choose to disobey me, I will be forced to call in security." He

grinned, looking for all the world like one of the skulls in the science

classroom. "And you KNOW how good a job the KF does of that."

"Why can't okaasan stay?"

No one answered. They just stared at each other. Okaasan at Kyoofu,

Ono oji-san at okaasan, and Sakuin at empty space.

"I'll go," his mother said finally, then turned to her brother.

"With HIM in the room, I know you won't listen to me. I am your

sister. Perhaps he is MORE to you?"

Oji-san's face was made of stone.

"We'll deliver the child to the mansion this evening," said

Tanaro. "You need worry about nothing."

Once his mother had left, they'd taken him into a different room,

with yet ANOTHER metal chair. This time, they'd attached tubes and wires

to his head, arms, and chest. He didn't complain. He had to be STRONG.

Okaasan was gone, and he had to show them that he COULD stand it, that

he WOULDN'T be in pain.

The needles dug in all around him, and they stung, but he didn't

tell them. He couldn't let them know.

"Sedate him. No use having the muscles tensed when we're trying

to get a reading."

"Hai."

He felt a cool liquid enter his right arm, and branch out towards

the rest of his body. As it was warmed by his hot blood, the frigidity

that left it rose to his head, making him dizzy, and sleepy, and...

He felt nothing now. No pain, no touch. Nothing.

Floating... Kind of dizzy... Movement around him, but not quite

registering... Who?

"Sakuin; check the acupuncture pathways."

"On-screen."

"Compare with SABLE."

"Running comparison check."

Voices. He knew them from somewhere... From someplace... Was there

any place but here?

"Strength peak as expected, R-zero SE-one point oh increase."

"And the others?"

"Ki channelling reversed, R-two point five increase, SE-point nine

decrease."

"I don't see why we keep this first one, Tanaro."

"He is my sister's son, and Tofu-sama's..."

"I know all that! I WORKED with your grandfather, but Project R is

a FAILURE!"

"He can still accomplish what he was made to do."

"Not likely."

"Wait and see."

"I HAVE waited, for SIX years. All I see is a snivelling nosebleed

of a boy who can't go to bed by himself without getting lost!"

"He was never designed for your purposes, Kyoofu. All he needed

were the ki-peaks, and in THAT the project has succeeded admirably."

"What good are those, with all his OTHER disabilities?"

The white blur swung up a cane.

"They are good enough for the goal of the project."

A brief pause.

"I'll be handing Onocorp to you soon, Tanaro. I don't have a

choice. If you wish to waste your time with this... With this...

With this half-formed mistake, go ahead." The voice grew deeper.

"Just remember to pay equal attention to the more IMPORTANT aspects

of your work."

The words hit, but did not register. The fluid that'd gone into

him coated his mind with a teflon shield, letting everything slide off,

unprocessed, leaving no impression.

Just as well.

The part of Reiraku that DID understand, that DID have a clue

as to what was happening, did not WANT to know.

And so, it forgot, gave up, and sent the whole into a long,

deep, dreamless sleep.

He was secure. He had not failed his mother. He had not shown

his weakness. He had felt pain, but he had buried it. If no one

could see it, it did not matter that it hurt.

They took him back home in time for dinner, before the drugs

had completely worn off. He sat in a haze, mechanically eating

the creamed salmon soup and spiced chicken breast, but it did not

matter that he did not speak.

His mother did not, and neither did his father.

Okaasan simply looked at him, eyes full of tears, all during

supper. He tried to ask her why, many times, but just as he'd make

up his mind to do it, the butler would come over, and refill his

glass of juice, and that would spoil his concentration, and he'd

forget, and things would spin around him, and...

Chichi was no better. He just kept his nose stuck in that

book of his all the time, and didn't notice ANYTHING.

At least obaasan wasn't there.

Not then.

Not yet.

She was, however, at his side when he was ready to be

tucked into his bed.

"Your mother's had a difficult day, today..." she said, in

a shaky, yet powerful voice. "Do you know why, Reiraku?"

She was the only one who pronounced his name more distinctly

than okaasan.

The boy nodded.

"Of course you do. It is because she is AFRAID. She is afraid

that you will not be STRONG. But you WILL be strong, won't you?"

She pulled the covers to his chin, and the thumb out of his

mouth.

"I will be, obaasan." He'd say ANYTHING, agree to ANY terms, to

have her leave him. She never hurt him... Not THAT... But it was WORSE.

The way she LOOKED at him, the way she SPOKE to him, like a snake

talking to a mouse, and asking it to help her...

"You know what happens if you are not."

Here it came. Every night, she reminded him, and every night,

he dreaded it.

"She'll come."

"WHO'LL come, Reiraku?"

"P... Perdita will come."

"And she'll take you away, and eat you, and throw your bones to

the dogs, just like she did to your great-grandmother."

"NO!"

"Unless you are strong."

"I will be strong."

"You MUST be, to fight her."

"I... I can run away..."

"She'll catch up to you, no matter WHERE you go, or how fast you

run, little one."

"I'll KILL her! I'll destroy her!"

Perdita would NEVER get to him. If he couldn't escape her, he'd..

"You will not."

"Why not, obaasan?"

"She will come to you, in time, as she did to me, and to my

mother. And, she will try to ruin your life, BEFORE she kills you.

THAT is worse. Once you are dead, nothing hurts."

Nothing hurts when you are dead.

Or does it?

No one can tell.

No one speaks to dead things, because dead things don't answer.

And even if they hurt...

If no one else can SEE the pain, it does not matter.

Then, the dead are strong?

"What must I do?"

"You must make HER suffer, child. You must make sure she feels

the pain that she has caused the others of your line; and yet you must

PRESERVE her life. She cannot be allowed to escape THAT easily. The

guilty MUST be punished."

"The guilty must be punished..." Reiraku repeated the phrase like

a prayer.

The guilty cause pain...

But... Kyoofu... And Sakuin... They caused pain... Must they be

punished, also?

"Where is she now?"

"She is hiding, but she will come for you, in due course. You can

be sure of that."

"I will be strong, obaasan."

"I know you will, Reiraku. I KNOW you will. Never forget who you

are; a Hibiki of the Ono's lineage. Let Perdita know your name. When

you meet her, let her know its meaning. You are Reiraku; 'Downfall'. You

are HER Downfall."

"HER downfall."

I am HER Reiraku. 

Her voice assumed a snappier, more commanding tone.

"And remember! Never forget this! You must NEVER falter, or she

will come for you, with her glowing eyes, and sharpened teeth, and tear

you into pieces! You must be ALWAYS strong, or she will come BEFORE you

are ready for her!"

"I AM ready!"

He could take her on.

He could punish her.

He could be strong.

Obaasan smiled.

"In spirit, at least." She lowered her aged head and kissed him on

the forehead, sealing their compact.

"Good night, little one. Remember what I have said."

"I will..." said the black-haired boy, and drifted into sleep.

END


	17. Skeridextremes

**Nerima Graveyard, sometime in the 21st century**

Though the night is dark, and the deep clouds hide any glimmer of the moon or stars, I see the kanji clearly carved upon the marker. Slowly, carefully I run my finger over each indentation, savouring the reality, the permanence of the stone.

Ironic. He is gone, and yet his name remains, for all to see, and touch - though some who care the most for it must do it carefully. I too, remain; unchanging as the rock that stands before me, not by fate or circumstance, but choice. I could change my own appearance, grow and age (though never die again).

In fact, the society of which I am now a part has urged me many times to do so, saying I should take my place as the leader that they have made of me, in body as well as in mind. I always refuse. It... Wouldn't be right. Once in a while, I allow my hair to lengthen to my waist, or for convenience change my clothes, but apart from that... Apart from that... I remain as on the day on which he left. Short, dark hair framing a face only sixteen winters old, and below, a body covered by a pale dress in pastel shades of yellow and blue. I couldn't imagine feeling comfortable in any other form. My own unlife is a memorial to his death, to OUR stillborn life...

For more than ninety years I've kept this feast. Every twelve months I'll bid farewell to all the other ghosts, insisting that I have some time alone, to think, to meditate... And to remember. More tears pour from my eyes, infused with my life-essence and shining a pale yellow. By their light I take in the name and pronounce it, symbol by symbol.

"Ra... N... Ma..."

"You knew him?" A voice from behind me. I turn, but see nothing except vague, shadowy outlines surrounded by a faint red glow, next to a generic obelisk. "I... Yes. A long time ago." Silence. The wind blows softly through the trees, wet and heavy. It presages rain in the morning.

"Is he your unfinished business, then?" I start. That is the one unspoken rule, the one taboo that's never broken by the Dead. One may comfort, sympathise, or try to help - but to ASK, to directly ASK without the information being volunteered, is the peak of crassness. This shade's either new, or troublesome.

"Who were you?" I growl. I summon up my anger and will my aura to intensify, that I may see better. I can gradually make out features... A woman. Young, with long arms and legs covered in a jet-black black body-suit. Her skin is as pale as her ebony hair is dark, save for a streak of pure white running down its middle, and at her side... The Assassin holds up her triangular-bladed dagger, which glows a brilliant green.

"My name is Gosunkugi Skeride," she says, "but you may call me Death."

--

**SKERIDEXTREMES **

written by 4cw6 with additions by RpM

--

**Part I: More than Kin**

--

"A little more than kin, and less than kind."

-William Shakespeare, 'Hamlet', Act I, Sc. 2

--

Once upon a time, there was a girl. She was unique in her situation in that she was often able to talk to herself, and have a reasonable conversation while she was at it. This was because she was a Gosunkugi, and members of her clan had managed to cross the barriers of time and space to make for one of the most unusual family gatherings of all times.

At the moment, this particular girl was talking to herself again. Skeride winced as the acupuncture needle dug into her arm, jetting through the flesh until it touched her bone.

"Just a little bit more, Nutkin, then we'll be finished." The girl nodded and watched enraptured as the needle began to glow - first a sky-blue, then a navy shade which deepened into something close to indigo and spread into her limb. She could feel her ki pathways realigning under the doctor's expert manipulation, rearranging themselves in response to the mental commands carried by the spiritual energy. After only a few seconds, the rod began to dim, and was finally removed by a gloved hand.

"There. All done."

"Thanks, Ske-chan!"

The woman with the white streak in her hair smiled. "You're welcome, Nutkin."

"Am I..."

"Yes, your magic's back to normal, and so's your skin, but about your eyes..."

"My eyes?" The doctor handed little Skeride a mirror.

"Your eyes."

"They're... They're purple!"

"The colour of your aura," nodded the elder Ske-chan, "and I'm afraid they'll stay that way. Now, tell me, Skeride, what were you doing? There must have been a tremendous magic backlash for that to happen! Were you playing with your bubbles again? Did you try one of them on yourself?"

"N... No..." The girl was hesitant.

"Well? You can trust me. I'm you." Another smile, mirrored in the youth.

"Hai! Well... It was..." Skeride twiddled her thumbs and looked away. "It was..."

The doctor made a rolling motion with her hands, urging her 'little sister' on. The girl only blushed.

"Ah... I know that expression far too well. I've used it more than once, myself." A short pause, then the elder Skeride looked her younger self in the eye. "It was a boy, wasn't it?" A nod. "Which one?"

"Reiraku," mumbled Skeride. Her double blinked.

"Hibiki? Black hair, likes bandannas, could get lost in a closet?" Another nod. The doctor shook her head in disbelief.

"Honestly, I still can't believe how different a person can be from herself. Hibiki Reiraku... I would have thought you would be going after his brother, if you were after anyone in that family."

"He only has a sister."

"Ah. That explains it, then." An arched eyebrow. "I take it you aren't going after his sister."

"Onee-san!"

The elder Skeride raised her hands. "Just asking!"

"He's... I don't know, onee-san... He's so sweet, and so nice, and when I see him, I feel-"

"...you feel like you must be with him, just as much as you must breathe, yet every time you try to talk to him-"

"...I freeze, and my head is full of all these thoughts, all these things happening at the same time, so I can't think clearly, or concentrate, and anything I say-"

"...Ends up coming out wrong, so instead you stay silent, and simply look, and feel." The doctor smiled. "I told you, Skeride. You can hide nothing from yourself. I can't say I particularly approve of your choice of boyfriend..." Little Skeride blushed. "...but trust me - if he's the one, there'll come a day when your mind will suddenly clear up, the fog will lift from your eyes, and you'll be able to communicate, to let him know how you feel, just as much as you have always wanted to - and you won't mess up, you won't stammer, it'll just be-"

"Onee-san! That's what I was trying to do!"

"Nutkin?"

Little Skeride sighed. "I... I decided that maybe if I... Maybe if I linked our minds - you know, like 246 was talking about in class... Maybe if we shared our souls, we could..."

"You shouldn't have tried that."

"I know. Now. When I tried to join with him, the energy I sent... It just..." She closed her eyes. "It just bounced back, straight at me. His spirit rejected me."

"You're lucky you got off with misaligned pathways and coloured eyes! You could have been killed!"

"I know, onee-san! I know!" Nutkin collapsed into tears, and her 'sister' wrapped her arms around her, comforting her.

"It's all right, little one. I know what you're going through. Trust me on this. The time will come when you won't need magic or tricks to talk to him. If all goes well, HE will come to YOU."

Little Skeride looked up from her crying. "Like you and Tofu-sensei?" she asked.

"Hai," smiled the doctor. "Like me and Tofu-chan."

"How did you..."

"Meet? He was one of my... Patients. Back home I take care of the Dead, you see..." The girl frowned. "Not all of them are bad, Ske-chan! I was sorry to hear about the hospital, and you KNOW I loved our tutor, but those are exceptions! Just like there are good and bad people, there are good and bad spirits."

"Do you help the bad spirits?"

"If they're hurt," admitted Skeride. "Like any other doctor, I can't let my own morality interfere with my work." A pause, then the elder Skeride continued with her story. "Tofu-chan was doing pretty badly. Some cemetery renovation and new construction in his old neighbourhood had led to a misalignment of his ki - not too different from yours, actually - and since ghosts ARE ki, he was in pain. He heard about me from someone else and came to my door. I was fixing dinner, but when I saw how bad he was I dropped everything and rushed to treat him. He stayed with me a week, that time, while I worked on healing him, and by the end of it... By the end of it, he didn't want to leave."

"Did he?"

"Patience, little one! He... I... Well... To tell the truth, I didn't want him to leave, either, but... I didn't know how to tell him."

"You were like me?"

"Just like you. I tried to talk, but instead of saying what I felt, I'd drift onto acupuncture. We were both knowledgeable in that area, and it provided an easy escape from awkward moments. It didn't make it easy that HE was shy, too. Even as a spirit, his eyes would fog up whenever I was kind to him," Skeride giggled at the memory. "But yes, he eventually told me how he felt. And then I told him. We've been together ever since."

Little Skeride hmph'd. "What's the matter, Nutkin?"

"Your stories are lousy. 28 tells much better ones."

"Aren't you a little young to be reading the kind of thing that 28 writes?"

"Well... If you can read it, so can I!"

The doctor laughed. "Point taken."

"And..."

"Yes?"

"Well... His stories all have romance, and things, and..."

"Go on?"

"Tofu-sensei's dead! How can you two-"

The doctor smiled. "Love is independent of the body, little one," she said slowly, then winked. "But when the mood's right, emotions can work miracles on ghosts!"

--

Though it was late, not all was quiet in the Nerima graveyard. A feminine figure decked in a long white dress with flowing folds glided across the cemetery paths, hovering, turning and gracefully melting through the monuments, its feet never touching the ground. At length, it arrived at its destination, and stopped.

Before it was a marker. A very old one, but well-kept, and at its foot sat a cloaked bundle. For some time, nothing happened. The shade stood still and let the moonlight shine through its etherity, shedding some little illumination on the ragged encysture in front of it. More moments passed. Then, seeing that it would have to take the initiative itself, the spirit spoke.

"Ryouga," she said, "Akane's dead." The rags jostled slightly, but no face looked up. "Aren't we all?" he answered softly.

"Not THAT way, we aren't. Not by her."

"Her?" This time, the man did turn his head, and when he did his face was only half-illuminated by the moonlight. For one who could look as he wished, who could choose whether or not he was affected by the physical laws of optics, that meant much. He shed tears, but they were to be felt, not seen.

"The Assassin. Who else would I be speaking of?"

Ryouga looked back at the inscription on the marker, and touched it lightly with his fingers. "Fate."

"Fate?" The woman's copper face contorted itself with controlled anger. "Ryouga, she's DECIMATING us! She slaughters us like... Like..." She struggled for a simile. "Like game birds in a biodome!"

"And brings relief."

"She obliviates. Nonexistence is not a relief."

The man's eyes looked sadly into hers. "It is, from an unlife such as ours."

"Speak for yourself." Silence. "How many more must fall? Tofu? Reiraku? ME?"

"Reiraku lives-"

"But for how long? She's killed the living once; she can do it again. We can't let this go on, grandfather."

Ryouga shut his eyes and turned to face the monument. "There is nothing we can do."

"There is."

The Wanderer flashed his grand-daughter a look of disapproval.

" I can do nothing, and neither can they, but with YOUR abilities, with YOUR siphon and THEIR strength, we-"

Ryouga stood and whirled violently to face her. "The Three want Gosunkugi Skeride alive and well. I can do NOTHING," he said, waving his hand in emphasis and looking the other spirit in the eye.

"You're just going to let us all die a second death?" she asked. "Is that your wish? To destroy the society which you've helped found? To allow the Assassin to remove its foundations, so that it collapses, and those who remain are back to being lonely, desperate wanderers?" The suitability of the last word was not wasted on Ryouga, and he winced.

"I am the Envoy, Zannen. How can I possibly-"

His grand-daughter interrupted him, putting a finger to her temple and looking up at an angle in mock realisation. "Oh, that's right," she said. "You're the ENVOY... I'd almost forgotten. You received that post - AFTER THE ASSASSIN SLAUGHTERED GRANDMOTHER!"

A blue aura flared around the Wanderer as he looked down and clenched his fists. "How DARE you mention that!"

"How dare you sit there and tell me you'll do nothing against Skeride when she did THAT to you? To US? Hm?"

"I have my orders!" he barked. "I must think of the good of the world! The Three-"

"SCREW the Three! While they're sitting up in their otherworld, safe and sound, we're being FULMINATED. Don't you get it? Not killed, FULMINATED. We cease to exist." Silence. The battle aura dimmed and Ryouga turned away from her, his head still hung low.

"And it's not just Ukyou," continued Zannen, "there's Childra, Kasumi, Minnako, and now AKANE. I thought she MEANT something to you, grandfather."

"She did."

"Then why-" He waved her into a silence which he too kept, unmoving. "You're right," said Zannen after a few moments, her voice soft and calm. "Maybe you really ARE dead." She pivoted and headed back the way she came.

"Wait!"

The woman stopped, and spoke without turning back. "We strike her room tonight, at midnight." A flash of orange flame, and she disappeared. Ryouga watched the spot where she had been.

Nothing was there now except for an obelisk or two, and in the distant background the city lights. It was his internal lights that he saw, though, it was his inner flames that now blinded him, that now put his duty into question. When there were many honours, which was one to fight for? When there were many honours, for which was one to die?

He raised his right palm before him and concentrated, willing a flare of blue ki to appear. The jet danced on his hand, morphing under his direction, first expanding, tapering at the base until it formed a miniature spatula, then re-molding itself into a mallet. The shape exploded in a violent burst as he closed his fist over it. The Wanderer swirled his cape about him and melted into the shadows. He had to be elsewhere tonight.

When she was sure he'd left, Skeride stepped out from her hiding place and knelt by the base of the Tendo memorial. She picked up the single black rose which she found there and held it to her face. The Hunter was now the Hunted, and she had to plot her first escape.

--

A lonely sheep wandered the halls of the Gosunkugi Collective's citadel, blissful in its solitude. For once, no black-jacketed man was hunched over it, calling it pet names and chanting magic rites; no pale figure with black-ringed eyes was stroking it, or using unprintable methods to try to get it to teleport across dimensions. A day or two ago, there'd been an awful accident involving Doctor Sam Gosunkugi and an accelerated Quantum Sheep, and since then the Collective had slowed down on its alternity jumping...

The Collective was, of course, the Gosunkugi Collective, a gathering of the most magically-talented Gosunkugis across several realities. There were some where the Gosunkugi name was generally trod upon (this was, actually, the majority of the worlds they'd sampled so far, much to their alarm), and one or two where having the name Gosunkugi was much akin to having a death wish.

However, there were a few worlds where they had been well-respected, well-liked, and once or twice, revered. These particular realities were plagued by Gosunkugis wanting a vacation (and a place to get a date), but that's another story.

What, one would wonder, would sheep have to do with quantum theory and time travel? Well, not all Gosunkugis had traveled via sheep, but the early pioneers of dimensional travel did, and quite a few of the 'old school' of Gosunkugi stuck by the method out of habit. They later found out that a hankerchief, ketchup, and an item of jewelry also did the job just fine.

The actual theory behind sheep and time/reality travel is quite complicated and involves runes and theorems that cannot be demonstrated properly by non-mages. However, in layman's terms, the whole matter of time/reality travel and sheep had to do with a) the inherent magical property of blood b) cotton c) static electricity and d) the theory of wholistic universality, which states that everything is linked to everything else.

Hence, the 'home base' of the Gosunkugi collective tended to be populated by statically-charged, baffled, and disoriented sheep named 'Fleecy'.

However, for Fleecy 986, today would be different. At long last, she would be free to do sheepish things, like munching on grass (not that there WAS any grass on this planetoid - astroturf would have to do), and staring blankly ahead, sleeping when night fell... Oh, yes, she would enjoy this vacation. What a pity that her respite didn't last long. Not twenty seconds after she'd laid down for a nice, well-deserved nap, she was burnt to a crisp by a sudden explosion of red ki-flame.

Skeride looked down at the freshly-barbecued sheep below her and wrinkled her nose in disgust. She liked lamb, but the smell of mutton was so... strong. She sighed. When would the Collective ever learn? This was the third time she'd landed on one of their... pets? (She didn't know how they used the sheep, and didn't WANT to know.)

_Oh, well. At least 212 knows how to make a good stew. _

Skeride lowered her arms, took her cufflinks apart and looked at her watch. A few brief mental calculations, converting between the time flow rate differential between this reality and hers, let her know that she had only about a half-hour left.

_It'll be enough. _

She looked around her. Her cufflinks had worked as accurately as usual, and she was only a few doors away from her 'sister's' office. She STILL couldn't believe how different a person could be from herself. It made her sick to her stomach to think of that goody two-shoes, that self-righteous harlot who thought herself so high above herself, and yet... And yet sold herself to them, willingly consorted with the bardo - and her intercourse with them was not just verbal! Any guilt or remorse which the Assassin might have felt at what she was about to do were washed away by the sudden wave of nausea and disgust which swept over her.

She looked herself over. Too clean. Far too clean. _Must mess myself up. But how? _She ran her hands through her hair, making it look wild. Better, according to the reflection off her watch, but still not perfect. What could she... _Ah. of course._

Skeride took a piece of charred skin from the deceased sheep and crumbled it in her hands, turning the fat and ashes into a thin, greasy black paste which she rubbed over her face and hands. She looked again at her reflection.

_I look just like I'm back from the Hunt_.

A noise. She couldn't let herself be seen. Not yet. She dragged the sheep (and herself) into a flying-broom closet and shut the door, leaving it just slightly ajar and hoping no one would notice the trail of cinders on the floor. No one did.

No sooner had she settled into a comfortable stance than she saw the door to her double's office open, and her remaining 'sister' leave. They'd had a consultation, apparently. Those two were getting along well. TOO well - the Healer was gaining too much of an influence. If Skeride didn't watch it, Nutkin would end up just as demented as the ghost-lover. The Assassin would not let that happen.

Skeride watched until the little one had bent around a corner and out of sight, then mussed her hair one last time and bolted through the infirmary door, into her double's office.

--

Skeride sighed as she put away her acupuncture equipment. It was a pity about her 'sister'. To be obsessed with someone was fine; it was almost a Gosunkugi's DUTY, but... Hibiki Reiraku?! If the boy in the little one's reality was ANYTHING like her own's...

Still, that wasn't the worst of her problems. She would NEVER have tried that stunt on her own; she was sure of it. Someone must have put her up to it, and she had a nagging feeling that she knew who that someone was.

It scared her to look at the final member of their trio. It was like looking into a fun-house mirror, where every detail was recognisable, and yet grossly distorted and mis-shapen...

And the Assassin had been taking it upon herself to spend extra time with little Ske-chan - time which she, as a doctor, couldn't afford. THAT was the problem. The little one was learning to trust the Assassin, to revere her, and if Skeride didn't watch it, Nutkin would end up just as demented as the ghost-killer.

The doctor polished her needles furiously. She would NOT let that happen. She didn't know how, exactly, but she would find a way to lessen that termagant's influence and-

A wild-eyed, dirty figure with matted hair burst through the door of the infirmary.

"What's the matter, Skeride?" asked the doctor.

"It's Zannen."

The Healer quietly put down the bottle she was holding, and looked her in the eye. "Zannen?" she asked calmly.

"Yes."

"Isn't she... dead, in your reality?"

"Yes."

"And she..."

"Is in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"She's hurt... Fading... I... I don't know what's wrong with her!"

The doctor scowled. Oh, she knew, all right. "You tried to exorcise her." A statement, not a question.

"I didn't! Honest, I..."

"You kill ghosts. They call you the Assassin."

"Not all of them! I just kill... The ones who deserve it!"

"How do you judge that?"

"I..." she lowered her eyes and calmed somewhat. "I'm not sure I do."

"Enough with the theatrics, Assassin. Cut to the chase. Why do you want my help?"

"She's hurt."

"So you've said. You should be happy. It's not like you to abandon one of your hunts."

The Assassin sighed and waved her arms about her, trying to grasp for words that wouldn't come. "I... I never MEANT for her to get hurt! I was after another spirit. A... A murderer... And... She got in the way. Please, Ske-chan! You HAVE to help her!" And with that, the ghost-killer began to cry.

The doctor bit her lower lip. This was NOT what she had expected. From all reports, her 'sister' was a merciless killer of the dead, just as surgical in her strikes as she was in her own procedures. Then why...

Her thoughts flew back to her earlier conversation with little Skeride. She'd teased her about going after Reiraku's sister, and then they'd spoken of her own life-and-a-half with Tofu-chan, and here... Could it be? It... It was unlikely, yes, but she had the evidence before her. And... People DID change. This WAS a version of her, after all, so if she could, then maybe... But it was just so... So... Could the Assassin be in love with the ghost of Hibiki Zannen?

A Hibiki and a ghost - it combined the traits of two of their other selves, and she DID say she was now killing only those who 'deserved it'...

"She's hurt, you say?" The other Skeride looked up from her sobs and nodded. "How long would you say we have, Assa- Skeride?"

Her double smiled weakly as she checked her watch. The correction had not been wasted. "With my reality's time flow rate, only a few minutes, at most."

The doctor drew a deep intake of breath. For her, a trip was a large event. In an emergency, she might pull off a jump in an hour, but...

"You know that my travel magic is far from perfect, Ske-chan. Maybe we'd better get 115 to help."

"There's no need. Just hold on to me."

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to use a sheep?"

"I DON'T NEED SHEE-" The other cleared her throat. "I mean, I don't need sheep." She grinned, and held up her wrists. "I made these cufflinks myself. They'll take me between my room and the Citadel."

The doctor nodded, grabbed a few items from her cabinet and wrapped her arms around the other's waist. The Assassin touched her wrists together, and they vanished in a flash of crimson flame.

--

Near midnight. The full moon shone through wispy clouds upon the University of Tokyo quadrangle, illuminating late-night revellers and hover-bikes that made their way through an unseen assembly. Unwittingly, the blushing couples walked through a horde of shades to a conveniently empty residence room; the deliverymen did not notice the forms through which their vehicles sped and even the moonbeams chose to ignore the presence of the spirits. But for all their incorporeality, they were there.

They crowded around by the thousands, melting into walls or trees if they had to, forming an unliving blockade of souls, all facing Kurenai Hall. These truly were the restless Dead.

Once, they had been lonely, then had come the Assembly with its organisation and camaraderie. That worked well; it united them and gave them comfort and hope in an otherwise hopeless existence.

Until the advent of the Assassin. Since then they had lived (or not?) in fear, snatching at snippets of joy, not daring to be happy for too long, lest she should find them, and annihilate them. She always seemed to know just where to strike; where their heart lay. How, they knew not, since no bardo would dare collaborate with Skeride. Whatever it was, be it insight, spy-work or divine inspiration, she always dealt a killing blow, destroying their leaders and knocking down the foundations of their society, which would each time be painfully and carefully rebuilt, only to be destroyed again as soon as it had been re-established.

Tonight, the cycle would end. It was for that that they had gathered here, leaving their tombs, their houses, their rounds or groupings, it was for that that they had trekked through the domain of the Living, using their ethereality to full advantage as they took the shortest route to their destination, be it through buildings, landscape or people. Akane's death had been the final straw, a sobering shock. She had been slaughtered at her worship, proving that NOTHING was sacred to the Assassin. There was no haven. They could stand it no longer; they had to attack now, or risk losing their collective being to the same oblivion to which their comrades had been committed by the Killer's knife.

"Some of us will die," said Zannen, floating a foot in the air at the head of the congregated ghosts. "There is no prize without a sacrifice. To gain life, we must be willing to risk a second death. We all know the Assassin will not yield without a fight."

There were a few murmurs in the crowd, and the collective aura of those gathered darkened a few shades. A 'fight' could prove quite costly, when Skeride's weapons needed less than a second to effect a kill.

"It is almost inevitable that a few of us will perish, but the vast majority of us will SURVIVE! I would not ask any of you to take this risk - in fact, I haven't; you've all come willingly - but the time has come when we can wait no longer. One MUST fall, but that one is not among us, but in the building before us! Hers is the only death of which we must be certain. The others take a chance. Which, I ask you, is worse? To have a few of us destroyed, or our joint soul?" No answer from their mouths, but the expression of the shades made their intention plain.

"After this," continued Zannen, "we will be safe. Finally. For ever. There'll be no more hiding, no more fear, no more guarding of one's words - THAT is what our sacrifices will be for." Her eyes glinted. "And for revenge. How many of us here have not lost one we cared for, loved, or more to Skeride's hand?" Silence. "I thought as much. The pain she has caused will NOT go unavenged. The reason you are here, the reason I have asked for your support is that I will need you to lend me... To lend US your strength. All of you will play a part in bringing her down; a bit of each of you will be in the hit that splits her soul from her body. The time for waiting is past. The Gosunkugi dies tonight, and when she does..." Her mouth curved upwards in a wicked smile. "Her shade will wish that it had gone to Hell."

Zannen quickly silenced the ensuing roar with a wave of her hand. "Save the rejoicing for after the deed. She can hear us as well as she can see us, and though her room is on the opposite end of the building..." When there was perfect quiet, she continued. "Now for the plan. At great risk, a few of our comrades have been observing the Assassin. We know that she stays in her room from nine to midnight on weeknights, studying and preparing herself for her hunts, then she leaves her room at the stroke of twelve by her clock. I intend to intercept her on her way out."

"You, Zannen?" A voice from the crowd.

"Yes. I will enter first, to draw her attention, and while she's focused on me, I want the rest of you to filter in by the sides. That way we might confuse her."

Shouts of protest went up. She was an important part of their community; she was a leader, a role model - she should not risk herself! Hands sprung up, and many shouted offers of going in her place, but she waved them all aside.

"I've brought you here," said she. "It's my plan, my responsibility, and so it's only fair that I should bear the brunt of the danger. I'll enter through her room's door, with the Doctor remaining behind it until the time comes for him to play his part."

"You'll be his shield?" "Yes. We cannot risk his loss, since he's our weapon. It is on him that you must concentrate; when you've all gathered close as I've told you to, I want you to focus your energy on him. When Skeride appears and goes for me, he will then step forward, through the door, and channel the ki into a narrow beam, delivering the killing blow."

"No, he won't."

The crowd turned to see who'd challenged Zannen's authority. At first, no one was found, but then a cloaked figure near the back began to glow a strong blue, knocking spirits aside to make room for itself as it made its way forwards. When he was directly in front of Zannen, he rose to her height and lowered his hood.

"No, he won't," repeated Ryouga. "I will."

"Grandfather... I thought..."

"That I wouldn't come?" He looked away. "I had to. You're right, Zannen. There's too many gone, and no end in sight. I thought we could wait, sit it out until she died on her own, but at this rate... I have my duties, but sometimes it seems like the Three are just-" His head snapped back up, and he glared at his grand-daughter. "What kind of plan was that, anyway? You were drawing fire to yourself from both ends! If Skeride's dagger didn't get you, Tofu's beam would have dissipated you just as surely!"

"I... I..."

"This is no time for heroics, Zannen. We're doing this to save ourselves, not lose more of our people."

"I understand."

--

"I don't understand," said Skeride, looking around the room. Plush red carpeting, oak shelves filled to the brim with ragged tomes, candles, bones, herbs, a desk littered with drafts of spells, but not a ghost in sight. "I thought you said your friend the Hibiki was hurt. Where's Zannen?"

"She... Should be here soon..." said her counterpart, looking at the grandfather clock in the far corner. The Healer glanced at the small rectangles of parchment tacked up all around the room.

"With all these wards set up, I don't see how any ghost's going to-" The wards burst into flame.

"That must be her right now," said the Assassin. "If you'll excuse me, I'll leave you two alone."

"Wait! Where are you going? I don't-"

"Oh, yes," interrupted the Killer, as she tossed a golden dagger to her other. "You might need this. Ta-ta!" That said, she raised her arms above her head, touched her wrists together and vanished in a flash of crimson flame.

--

**Part II: Libera me de Morte Aeterna **

--

"... that the Almighty had not fixed His canon 'gainst self-slaughter!"

-William Shakespeare, Hamlet

--

The woman surveyed the room with timid eyes. No spectre yet, only the smoke still rising from the piles of ash that had been spirit wards, and the midnight tolling of the clock blending with the palpitations of her heart in a macabre rhythm. Under other circumstances, she might have found the beat quite danceable.

As it was, she tried to ignore it, licked her lips, and focused her other senses on detection. Never had she been afraid of ghosts and bogeymen; they'd always been her friends, her playmates - others feared them because they could not see them, and yet were affected by them. She loved them, and they loved her back, because she could see them, and affect them like no other could.

In time, she'd learned that she could do more than touch and comfort, that she could actually Heal, and that had earned her their respect... But that was in HER world, HER reality.

This was a different one, a macabre mirror image where the one who bore her name would give the bardo a second death, and where she was not certain whether her patient would welcome her, or fear her. Whatever the case, she feared it. An unaccustomed tremor flashed down her back as she stood up straight and smoothed her vest. She was sure that she would feel better when she saw her visitor.

_And the spirit wards? _asked a small voice within her. She ignored it. It wouldn't be long, now. Maybe the ghost was - shy? Or not.

Skeride fixed her eyes on the door in front of her, and in only a few moments saw a copper face surrounded by luxuriant black hair melt through it. Hands followed, then arms, and after that the rest of the body, covered in an ornate robe of virginal white. When she was fully in the room, the entity merely stood, and looked at her.

It was Zannen. The green eyes were unmistakable, the same as her reality's, but where that one had liveliness, this one held a twinkling sadness in her emerald orbs. Her mouth, too, was different - a straight line instead of the perpetual mocking grin of the grown-up girl that Skeride was used to. Different, and yet the same. It was Zannen. Her Other had not lied to her.

"You are hurt?" she asked unnecessarily. She alone of her sisters could feel the pain of others (but ironically, not her own - the other Skerides were a blank slate to her), and the anguish this spirit felt was coalescing around her, an emotional miasma.

"Hurt?" The question seemed to amuse the ghost. She raised her chin and put a finger to her temple in mock concentration. "Yes, I suppose I'm hurt." She looked straight at Skeride, and the mockery melted into accusatory anger. "You of all people should know that."

"I'm sorry?" That comment seemed to indicate that Zannen knew of her abilities, but this reality's Skeride wasn't empathic - was she?

"Oh, you're _sorry_?" Zannen's voice was crisp. "_I'm_ sorry, dear, but it won't do you much good." While she spoke, she had been slowly advancing, and now the faces of the two were almost touching. "We are past sorrow, or forgiveness."

"If you need healing -" Skeride concentrated and raised her hand, intending to focus her ki into it in the mending patterns. The shade sprang back.

"We need none of YOUR healing," she hissed. "The final death is NOT a cure, and no matter how much you may want it to be, being dead is not an illness! Don't you see? Like you, we wish to live, to see, to feel! For years you've been annihilating us, destroying our very essences, and those of our friends and lovers-"

_Uh-oh._ The Healer gulped as she ran her hand through her hair. Her white-striped hair. She was in her 'sister's' room, alone, and there was no reason for anyone to think that the Assassin had a twin, so-

"Please believe me, I'm not that kind of person!"

"And I'm not that kind of fool." Zannen looked away, a reflex from her living days when she would not have let her enemy see her cry. "All this time we've borne it patiently - your slaughters, your hunts. There'd be complaints, but the Three would say that what you did was to be tolerated. And so, we did. Even when you killed their Envoy - my grandmother! - I was forced to do nothing, for the word of the Three is Law. You would destroy, we would rebuild. That was the cycle." She paused and looked the Healer in the eye. "That WAS the cycle."

Skeride licked her lips nervously. Now the set-up was becoming painfully clear; she'd been a fool to fall for it. The Assassin had somehow found out about this vengeful ghost. She planned to leave her here as cannon-fodder, and then return to take Zannen by surprise, once the shade thought she was dead. This was not good. Skeride eyed the golden dagger lying on the floor.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." The Healer looked up. "THEY wouldn't like it."

"They? Who's they?"

Zannen smiled. "For as long as you played by the rules of your own game, we could do nothing. Now Akane is gone - slaughtered at her prayer."

"WHAT?!"

"It surprises you that we know? Do not let yourself think that only because you can see ghosts, you know all of what is going on in graveyards, Gosunkugi-san. Oh, yes, we know all about it," she taunted. "We know how you dealt the killing blow, how you swung the dagger straight into her forehead while she was next to her own grave and before the one of her beloved. We know how you laughed, and how little you cared when you heard her final words - 'Ranma, sumimasen'."

"Deity..."

"None will help you, now that you have broken their laws. Even the Three will not be able to defend your actions. When you killed Childra twice, once living and once dead, I- Oh? You wince at the memory? Good. It makes it only that much more satisfying that you remember. I was beginning to fear that you would not; after all, what is one death among thousands? Yes, you might well cry. Don't bother trying to hide your tears; it's only fair that you should shed a few, after having caused so many yourself."

Indeed, glistening drops were now rivuleting down the Healer's cheeks, but it was not for regret of her past misdoings, for she had none, nor was it from sorrow for her sister's malignment - she had none to spare. Rather, it was for the grief of others that she loosed her tears. The same aura that she'd sensed before, the same ether of distemper had grown in intensity; it now felt like a thousand minds all pressing heavily upon her own, exerting pressure on her skull and buffeting it with eddies of anger, fear and sadness.

Skeride doubled over - the pain and grief were too much for her to take. From the corner of her eyes she noticed ghostly faces melting through the walls and floor, but it didn't surprise her. She'd been expecting Them. A man's voice broke the silence.

"It's appropriate that you wore white. You won't leave here alive." The sound was familiar; it 'fit', somehow, it seemed a part of her... Where had she... Skeride looked up, but her watery eyes turned the figure before her into a blur. After a few blinks, the image focused and coalesced into-

"Tofu-chan!" Skeride launched herself towards her husband, but he moved aside and only her hand grazed his gelatinous arm. Zannen snickered and looked at the doctor.

"Is there something you're not telling us, Ono-sensei?"

The glasses which Ono had chosen for his spectral form did not allow one to see the eyes behind them, and his face was expressionless. He turned towards Skeride.

"Don't you ever call me that," he said, and waved his hand towards the assembled spirits. "Look around you; this is not the time for mockery."

The Healer looked, but did not see. Her mind was elsewhere. In that brief moment when they'd touched, she had sensed his aura, and it was not the one she knew. Her husband's was a dark blue one that emanated feelings of nobility and strength; this one was the same, but corrupted. The blue was speckled with black, and the holes were filled with a grief that would have expanded and torn apart the last remnants of the pattern long ago, if it weren't for a binding of anger driven by hatred. There was love there, too, but it was a lost love - the remembered scarlet of a passion taken from him. Which meant-

"Kasumi?" she mumbled timidly, more an uttering of her thoughts than a formal question. Doctor Tofu turned silently away from her. Skeride bit her lip.

"I will not live," she said. Still with his back to her, the doctor shook his head. Skeride scanned the room with her gaze. Around her was a mass of silent, fallen faces. Though they did not speak, their bodies said volumes.

Their appearances were gloomy, haggard and bedraggled, each beggarly visage a reflection of their inner selves. When one can look as one wishes, appearances count. These people had been hurt. A lot. They had been driven to the point of assassination; to the point of taking a Life when it was their own lost Life that they valued above all other things. How could she deny them now their satisfaction? How could she dream of quelling their insurrection, of making them understand that she was not the one they sought, but her doppelganger from another world? Even if she managed to escape for the moment, they would hunt her down as her sister had them, and their pursuit would not end until their thirst for vengeance was quenched. So long as she lived, they would not pause long enough in their chase to listen to her explanations.

_So long as I live..._

A thought ran through the Healer's mind, which though at first seemed dismissively ridiculous, gained desirability with each moment that passed. She was one of them, but they would not believe her. They could not comprehend that one who looked as she did, that one who breathed, and whose sweat humidified the air could count herself among the bardo, even before her term of vivacity had expired... But if she were to shed that covering which dazzled, blinded and confused them... She could always convince them after she was dead.

_It's only flesh, after all. _Her powers wouldn't dull - in fact, they might be heightened, and this way... _I guess that Tofu-chan and I will have that second honeymoon a few decades ahead of schedule. _

Skeride raised her head, stood up straight and placed her hands at her sides.

"I'm ready," she told Zannen. The Hibiki nodded and stepped aside, as did the doctor. The crowd of ghosts behind them also parted, opening up an impromptu tunnel to make way for a cloaked figure - the executioner. The hooded man walked forward with measured, heavy steps, stopping only when he was two paces away from his intended prey. Without a word, he reached inside his cloak and pulled a black strip from his waist, which he snapped into a rectangular blade and raised high above the Healer's head.

--

_SNIP _

--

"Are you sure you want to go on, Skeride?"

"Yes." "It's such beautiful long hair, it seems like such a pity to cut it..."

Skeride sighed and closed her eyes.

_Why is it_, she wondered, _that no matter what reality you're in, and no matter what you ask for, no barber will think that you are qualified to choose your own hairstyle?_

She glared at the hairdresser's reflection in the mirror. "I want it short. If I had wanted it long, I wouldn't have come."

"It takes time to grow."

"And apparently to cut, as well."

"Why-"

Skeride interrupted him. "You want to know why?" she asked, swivelling her chair to face him. "Because I don't want to lose myself. Do you know what it's like to go around every day, seeing people who look exactly like you do?" She looked Hikaru Gosunkugi #512 in the eye. "Don't answer that. Let's just say I've had enough. Each day there's more of me, and each day I'm less recognised as an individual. Instead of saying, 'there goes the third Skeride', people glance and think, 'there goes another Skeride'. I have to be _me_, _myself_; I have to have _my_ name known, _my_ wrath feared, and not be mistaken for that of some perverse double. Do you understand?"

The wide-eyed barber swallowed as he tried to ignore the crimson ki-flames that had formed about his client. "How short should I cut it, Gosunkugi-san?"

The Assassin smiled and turned her chair back towards the mirror, letting her night-light spell dissipate. She couldn't tell him the real reason she'd been forced to change her appearance, but it seemed that her ad-lib explanation would work rather nicely. If she was lucky, he might even spread rumours.

"Mid-neck will be fine," she answered.

--

Skeride barely felt the blade as it slid between her shoulders and her head, and it was only the sight of her face rolling on the ground in front of her and the sound of her body crumpling to the floor that let her know the deed was done. The sound of a thousand ghosts cheering also helped. The late physician unclenched her now-immaterial fists and raised her eyes to look at Zannen.

"Are you satisfied?" she asked.

"Not quite." It was Tofu who spoke. "Death is not a punishment; it is just a second form of life."

Skeride started. Her Tofu-chan had said those self-same words to her, upon their wedding night.

"Now, a _second_ death..." Zannen smiled, and tapped her finger on her temple pensively. "_That_ is punishment. Wouldn't you agree, grandfather?" No answer from the cloaked one. "Oh, I forgot. You still have political difficulties with this, don't you? Tsk. You, at least, should agree with me, Assassin."

"I'm not the one you're looking for."

"No?"

"I don't kill bardo; I _heal_ them." The crowd tittered, but Zannen waved them into silence.

"That," she pointed at the brass dagger lying on the ground, "is not exactly a surgical scalpel."

Skeride hung her head. "It isn't mine. It's my sister's."

"You have no sisters."

"I'm not of this world."

Zannen grinned. "Not of this world, you say?"

"No. This is not my reality."

"I couldn't agree more. In fact," her eyebrows narrowed. "I'd say you don't belong here, Skeride." The assembly of ghosts cackled, but the Healer ignored them. She looked up with hope in her eyes.

"You... You could send me back? To my home?"

"Of course! Hiroshi! Daisuke!" Two boys stepped forward from the mass of spectres.

"Don't you need sheep?"

Zannen gave a quick nod of the head, and the two boys seized the Healer's arms. She struggled to break loose of their grip, but she was new to her form and inexperienced in its use, whereas they had channelled the bulk of their energy into their arms to keep her immobile.

"What are you doing? Let me go! I can explain what I-"

"You can explain nothing." The Hibiki woman's voice was cold as ice. "You are the Assassin, killer of the Dead. Skeride does not belong among the bardo." A roar of approval followed her pronouncement. "You yourself have set the penalty for those who twist the boundary between the living and the dead."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"Yes."

"We are not hypocrites," said Tofu softly. "Though you bend the very rules you have created, we will abide by them. You will be your own judge. After all, even a mass murderess has the right to a consistency trial."

The ghost managed a weak smile. "I'm not the one..." said the Healer weakly. "My sister... she framed me..."

"Still with the sister? A liar to the last." Zannen snorted. "I'm disappointed in you. Usually, your deceptions are a lot more credible."

Skeride closed her eyes and hung her head. It was clear that she could do no more to save herself.

"Those of us assembled here have all suffered some loss at your hands, and the passing of time has only caused the wounds to fester, turning grief into ire and desperation into a burning hatred."

_Tofu-chan and his prepared speeches_, thought Skeride grimly. _He always overdoes them_.

The doctor waited for the tide of approving nods and murmurs to subside before continuing. "Were we to judge you on our own, acting only on our impulses, we would tear your body limb by limb and absorb the pieces in pea-sized morsels, one to a soul, to prevent its regeneration. But that would bring no satisfaction, only revenge. Instead, we'll trust that we are in the right and give you a more than sporting chance. This is your weapon?" He pointed at the p'ur-bu on the floor.

"It is my sister's."

"It is your weapon. Many a time have I seen you channel energy into it, before plunging it into some spirit's chest. Tonight, _we'll_ charge it up." He turned to his audience. "I ask you all to think of nothing but the basics of your loss; nothing, upon pain of exile, but the grief you felt when first this killer touched your second lives." Then to Skeride, "It is _this_ aura built solely from the pain you've caused, and not from that which we of our own will have nurtured, that we will focus through the dagger. If it is strong enough, you are destroyed. If it is weak, you shall be hurt, but will recover."

The Healer looked up. The fight was gone from her eyes, and her face wore a defeated expression. "I am undone," she said.

"That's the general idea," answered Zannen, and then motioned for the doctor to stand back. Hiroshi and Daisuke also stepped aside, still holding their prey's arms, and a channel cleared before and behind the Healer. The black-cloaked executioner alone remained in the path. He picked the p'ur-bu from where it lay and held it in the air, pointing it at Skeride's chest. When he let go of it, it stayed in place.

"Remember," said Tofu, "nothing but that first, sharp pain."

--

Skeride the third, soon to be the second, luxuriated in the darkness that surrounded her, for a time allowing herself nothing but to enjoy the feel of the water streaming down her front, hair and sides. The physicality of it all, the tingling of her skin where the shower's pressured tear-drops fell was quite intoxicating in its own right, but it was the symbolism of the act that she took greatest pleasure in. She fumbled for a few moments, then found the bottle of liquid soap nestled in between the two water taps and squirted a generous portion into her cupped hand. Bits of shorn hair, dirt and oil were easily emulsified as she rubbed the gel over her exterior.

This filth was the trappings of her old persona, overstained and overstrained, which she was ridding herself of today, while the cleanser... She smiled as she heard the sound of her 'sister' being sucked down the Collective's drain. An almost perfect analogy, really, thought the Assassin as she gleefully continued to wash - the Doctor was a purifier, the means by which she was renewed, but in the end, only _she_ survived, and the besmirched suds were left to the oblivity of an inadequate sewage system.

Of course, it wouldn't do just to _say_ she'd metamorphosed, or feel it, especially when there were a thousand ghosts with her image deeply etched into their memories waiting to tear her apart limb by limb if she ever should return to her reality. Her appearance had to change; the old Skeride III had to TRULY die if her plan was to come to aught.

Besides which, it was a marvellous opportunity to rid herself of any trace of her goody two-shoes double. It sickened her to think that two such dissimilar people, walking along different paths, could make so many of the same cosmetic choices, and that a casual observer could mistake one for one's antithesis. She would not now make the same mistake.

After some more confused groping in the dark, Skeride located the bottle of shampoo-in hair dye which she had brought with her and poured a bit into her hand. She lathered carefully, painstaking in her effort to remove any visual clue to her relationship with the Healer.

True, all the Skerides in the Collective had that same white streak in their hair, because it was the same magical accident with the same follicular side effects that had first allowed them to travel between realities, but she did not intend to be a Skeride for much longer.

Once she'd waited for the required period and thoroughly rinsed the foam from her head, she turned off the taps and stepped out of the shower cubicle, grabbing a towel and flipping on the light switch on her way out. She looked approvingly at the figure that coalesced in the mirror before her as her eyes adjusted to the brightness.

_Not bad. Not bad at all. _Her skin was paler than her sisters', though darker than most of the other Gosunkugis'. She had an athletic frame (firmer, she noted with pride, than any of the other Skerides'), dark green eyes, and-

The Assassin frowned. There was still one detail, one nagging defect - the dark lines beneath her eyes fairly screamed her lineage. That wouldn't do. It wouldn't do at all. She took a black paste from the makeup drawer of the bathroom cabinet and dipped her index finger in it, smearing the substance around each eye and teasing it into a diagonal pattern.

_ There. _

The woman smiled at her unfamiliar reflection. Skeride had truly disappeared.

--

Tofu watched with morbid interest as the Wanderer drew the dark energy from those around him and channelled it into the Assassin's mystic dagger. It was, in its own way, a beautiful sight.

Tendrils of spiritual blackness were surging from each bardo like the curled legs of a spider drenched in boiling water - there was a movement to them, a fluid flow that led straight to Ryouga in a cobweb of communal depression.

The Wanderer himself was standing straight, his eyes closed and his brow furrowed in concentration, and from his outstretched hands a perfect beam of ki energy extended towards the levitating p'ur-bu. The weapon changed the energy it fed on into something else, apparently, for it glowed an emerald green as it was charged - the brilliant colour matched the bonze of its construction well. A beautiful sight indeed, and made more pleasing by the obvious agony of the intended victim. She was struggling to loose herself from her captors' grip, but they were far more powerful than she, and whenever her eyes hit upon the face of one of the bardo, she would shrink back as if struck - could it be that seeing the righteous pain of those she'd wronged frightened her?

Could it be that she knew she had been wrong, that she knew the judgement had been made and the verdict was doom? Nothing could bring Kasumi back, but at least now no one else would have a loved one taken away in that fashion - and there was the matter of base satisfaction...

Bestial revenge had its own attraction, especially after what Skeride had done tonight. She had deliberately imitated Kasumi. Why, he didn't know for certain. To mock him? To gain his favour? All he knew was that it'd fuelled an already-existing anger into a rage which he had not known himself capable of harbouring.

Even now, her eyes were focused on him with a sickening puppy-dog expression. Her eyelids were bulging slightly from holding in tears, her eyebrows were drawn slightly down, and her lips were just slightly apart - exactly how Tofu imagined Kasumi looking at him in his nightmares. A ghost _can_ choose to sleep, and it was willingly that he bore those dismal dreams, since it was only in that fashion in which he could see his former wife - the ethereal wish-song of one who was himself not entirely real.

The doctor frowned. If she was trying to get him to halt the execution by playing on his feelings, it wasn't going to work. As the glow of the dagger reached a peak, he circled away, bowing his head.

"Shishi Houkodan!"

He heard the fatal cry, but did not turn to see. The shout was followed by a millisecond's silence, after which a single scream exploded to encompass the room. A sizzling sound joined it briefly, like that of a water droplet on a red-hot griddle, and when that faded, the other was gone as well.

For a moment, nothing, then the clang of the metal dagger dropping onto the hardwood floor signalled the end. It was finished.

The Wanderer didn't wait for acclamation. He walked away, going past the doctor and dissolving into invisibility before reaching the door. Tofu swivelled and looked, now, but saw only corpo et capita. He stooped to pick up the molten lump which the p'ur-bu had become, then turned to Zannen, trying to hold back his tears.

"Kasumi is avenged."

--

Hikaru Gosunkugi #212 was just about to lift a ladle to his lips when he was interrupted by a knock at the kitchen door. He reluctantly replaced the instrument in the pot, wiped his hands on his apron, turned down the heat and undid the deadbolt to let in his guest.

The intruder was a slightly battered-looking #220, who was gripping his right index finger with his left hand.

"Do you know where Skeride is?" he asked.

"Which one?"

"The Doctor." He undid his fist and let the cook look at his finger, which was bleeding. "One of the sheep bit me."

"Can't you take care of it yourself? Here - I'll lend you a napkin..."

"What if it's rabid?"

212 frowned. "Can sheep be mad?"

"I'm sure it was mad," answered 220. "If it hadn't been angry, it wouldn't have attacked me."

"True," conceded the cook.

"Besides which, I was trying to get it into the bath when it grew violent."

"Into the bath."

"Yes."

"I fail to see the con-" 212 paused as a thought suddenly struck him. Biology wasn't his forte; he usually saw animals only when they were skinless and compliant, but he seemed to remember something in an old school text of his...

"You do have reason to worry. If it was afraid of water-"

"Then it has hydrophobia. My point precisely. You don't have any idea where the doctor could be?"

"Sorry, not a clue. However, I did see psycho-girl heading for the Registry a few minutes ago."

"Psycho-girl? You mean Three?"

"Who else?"

"The young one."

"Nah, she's only strange."

"She'll be a lot more than that if she continues hanging around Three as much as she does. That woman scares me."

"You, and the rest of us."

"So... The Registry, then?" 212 nodded.

"Why would she want to go there?"

The cook shrugged. "Maybe she finally got herself a proper sheep and wants to enrol it. I don't know. In any case, she probably knows where her sister is, and this situation of yours is rather urgent, so..."

"I see. Thank you, 220."

"Anytime," said the cook, turning back to his pot. "By the way, if you do meet the doctor, remind her to be on time for dinner. We're having her favourite - lamb stew."

--

Meanwhile, Skeride was trying to squeeze her way through a large flock of sheep that was blocking the entrance to the Registrar's office.

"Excuse me... Excuse me..."

"Baaaaaaaaaa!"

"So sorry... Excuse me..." After several dozen animals, she paused. _Why, _she asked herself, _am I apologising to sheep? _

She resumed her trek in efficient silence, and a few kicks and headbutts saw her just outside the Registry door. It seemed she'd have to wait, since someone else was currently with the Registrar. Skeride put her ear against the door and tried to listen.

Unfortunately, the sheep made far too much noise for her to make out anything intelligible. Exasperated, she took an empty package of mutton jerky out of her pocket and looked into it, making exaggerated motions to indicate her disappointment at having run out of the snack. Then she looked at the sheep. Her hand wandered to the p'ur-pa in its holster at her side. The sheep grew quiet. With a smile, Skeride resumed her now-unimpaired eavesdropping.

'Why do you need so many?' asked a voice from within. The Registrar, if she was not mistaken.

'For the progress of magic!' His client. 'These quantum sheep experiments are very animal-intensive...'

'Yes, yes, yes, I'm aware of that, but did you have to give them all names? Now I can't just automate the spell; I have to ink each one in by hand!'

'But 105, they all have such distinct personalities, you see...'

'Distinct? Distinct? Every number is distinct, 239! Just you try! Fleecy number one, Fleecy number two, Fleecy number three... Count upwards from one, and you'll never meet the same number again, so why couldn't you just have-'

"Excuse me - " Skeride chose this moment to open the door and make herself known. "There's something rather important I have to-"

"Baaaaa! Baaaaaa!" The sheep, having seen the door open, were now making a beeline to their beloved shepherd.

"Sorry," said the Registrar, looking at the animals nervously, "No time now. I have to-"

He was interrupted by a flash of blue flame which suddenly filled the room. For a second, as if she were standing in front of a fun-house mirror, Skeride saw a distorted image of herself and the quantum sheep researcher, and then the vision and the light were gone. So were the sheep.

"Stampede!" shouted the Registrar. The researcher shouted nothing at all, because he was too busy being borne aloft on the backs of the mobile ovines. 105 ran out after the fleeing flock, and Skeride was left alone.

Wondering what magical mishap had caused the blue flame, and hoping it wasn't a malfunctioning Ledger, she went over to the large book that was sitting open on the office's desk. It wasn't just any book, it was THE book.

Early on in the history of the Collective, it had been recognised that it was extremely awkward to engage in social activities with a group of several dozen people who all looked, talked, and dressed alike, and had the same name. At first they took to wearing name tags, saying, 'Hi! I'm number !', but these were not without their problems. Quite apart from looking silly, they tended to get lost or misplaced, individuals would forget their own numbers, and the sheep were also fond of eating the brightly-coloured mini-placards. The situation was quite exasperating, and after a few rather confusing parties it was decided that a magical solution was in order.

This is when the Ledger had been created. Into this book were entered the name, number and other relevant statistics of every Gosunkugi in the Collective (and their sheep). The magic it was imbued with made it so that any entry made into it would instantly be imprinted in the minds of all the Collective, so that everyone knew everybody else's number on sight. It was to this tome that Skeride the third now turned to, to complete her transformation.

She was pleased to see that the quill and specially-prepared ink she needed were already out. For once, she actually owed the sheep a favour. The Assassin turned to the appropriate page, dipped the feather in the black liquid, and frowned. She put the pen down and picked up a second phial - correction fluid.

With the attached brush, she carefully dabbed out the words 'Skeride 3' in her entry, and once the excess liquid had dried, wrote in her new name - 'Sicarii'. She always did have a flair for the dramatic, she thought - 'Sicarii' came from the Latin 'Sicarium', for 'Assassin'. She chuckled to think that the very ghosts who thought they'd killed her had furnished the name for her new self. Scarcely had she set the quill down when the door cracked open. It was 220.

"Sicarii," he asked, "do you know where the Doctor is?"

The Assassin smiled. The spell had already begun to take effect.

--

The Gosunkugi Collective's dining hall was a huge construction, roughly in the shape of an elongated horse-shoe and decorated in the European Gothic style. There was a pair of enormous wood-and-iron doors (taken from a cathedral in one of the more war-torn dimensions, it was rumoured) at the front of the hall, and apart from that only two or three small servants' entrances leading in from the kitchen. Massive oak tables filled the room, and at each of these sat two dozen individuals on equally heavy wood-and-wicker chairs.

One would have thought that in such an environment, with several hundred people eating dinner at once, and with a ceiling height that was only possible because of the Citadel's peculiar physics, it would be impossible for one person to drown out the sound from all other conversations.

When one deals with the Collective, one should expect the impossible. At this very moment, Hikaru Gosunkugi #242 was monopolising the table-talk by speaking so loudly that anyone else was unable to get a word in edgewise (or diagonally, or following the real projection of a hypergeometric trajectory). He'd droned on about rampaging sheep and how the quantum sheep program could eventually breed all such tendencies out of them for aeons, completely oblivious to the fact that all around him were furtively hoping that the stampede which he so much talked about (and which had not yet been caught) would burst through the front doors and carry him off.

The young girl next to him was particularly annoyed by his verbosity, since she had a new acquisition which she wanted to show off. She got her chance when the servers arrived with the dinner rolls. The instant 242 bit into one, she tossed a lilac bubble at his throat.

"Look at what Childra brought me from Tibet!" shouted Skeride while her neighbour tried to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre on himself and extricate the piece of bread from his contracted oesophagus.

"What is it?" asked the other Gosunkugis at the table. They saw 242 pointing at his throat and making gagging noises, but ignored him and paid attention to little Ske-chan, since she'd done what they'd privately wished to do themselves all along.

"Is it the clothes?" they asked. She was wearing a blue shirt made in the old Chinese fashion, with lotus-amulet beads in bronze instead of the usual hooks.

"Mm-hmm," nodded Skeride. "But she brought me something else, too. Here! Look!"

The girl took a bundle from her lap and undid the purple cloth which it was wrapped in, revealing an ornately carved dagger. There were general remarks of admiration, and honest ones. Even 242, who by now had managed to free himself of his alimentary obstruction, chimed in with praises of the piece.

The blade was of iron and triangular, inlaid with stylised snakes. The hilt was made of bronze, with three boars' heads arranged symmetrically at the bottom and the grip consisting of two almost-closed loti touching each other's petals, topped by a complicated wicker-like arrangement of lines. Finally, the copper pommel was in the shape of a Chinese lion's head. The craftsmanship of the weapon was exquisite, and it was agreed by all that Skeride was lucky indeed to have a friend who would bring her such a lovely gift.

"Where's doctor onee-san?" she asked, after everyone had examined the object. "I want to show it to her."

"You don't know, then?" asked 155, arching an eyebrow. "It's been all the news today. We think she's lost."

"Lost?" A few of those present nodded, while the rest, who apparently hadn't heard the news either, began to murmur quietly.

"No one's seen her for half the day, and they found a burnt sheep just outside her office." #115 threw his head back in disgust.

"That's just like her!" he said. "I've told her time and time again, if she needs to travel, she should consult me. She may be a skilled healer, but her travel magic is-"

He was cut off by little Skeride.

"A burnt sheep?" Ske-chan frowned. She didn't remember her sister saying anything about travel. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure! What do you think is in the stew? She must have had an emergency call."

"Even in an emergency, she should-"

The front doors to the hall opened magically and slammed against the side walls, and the assembly tittered when they recognised the new arrival. Or thought they recognised her.

"Sicarii..." whispered Skeride. The Assassin was standing in the doorway in a black body-suit, dragging a nervous-looking 220 with her left hand, and a bundle wrapped in a blanket with her right. She did not look happy.

"Glad you could make it to dinner," said 5, one of the eldest Gosunkugis. He had never been impressed by her theatrics. "Shouldn't you wash up first?" he asked, pointing at the diamonds around her eyes. "I think you have something on your face."

Sicarii ignored him, let go of her companion and walked to where her sister was sitting. She tossed her package into the middle of the table, upsetting a few bowls of stew in the process. A few people were upset, as well, but they were silenced with a look that could kill a tadpole at ten paces. When they looked to 220 for help or an explanation, he merely looked at his shoes an shuffled his feet.

Little Skeride glanced at the bundle, then at her sister. Sicarii's face was unreadable as she nodded an assent to the unspoken question. With some hesitation, Skeride undid the knot in the blanket- And screamed as she saw her own severed head looking up at her. All over the hall, Hikarus sprang from their seats and rushed to the child, while other began to chatter in loud voices - Sicarii silenced them all with a wave of her hand. She pointed to the head.

"The ghosts did that to her," she said. "The woman accidentally sent herself to my reality, and they slaughtered her."

Silence. The Assassin's hatred of spirits was well-known, and it'd always been thought unfounded, but this incident was forcing the Gosunkugis to eat their words. The noise continued to be at a minimum as the shock settled in, and the only audible sounds were those of little Skeride's hyperventilation and Sicarii's steady footsteps as she began her exit. When she passed her little sister, she noticed the dagger lying next to the head, and smiled.

"You can kill ghosts with that, you know," she whispered to the petrified girl, then walked out of the room. The doors slammed shut behind her, and it seemed an eternity before their reverberation ended.

--

The spirit rose as the sun set, eager to begin her nightly perambulation. It was only at this time that she could recapture some of her lost life, that she could feel that she existed in some form. To go out in the daytime was too painful. The sunlight showed too much; it revealed everything that was, while concealing her. It was when night set in, when the deceiving drapery of darkness clouded mortal sight, when all men were ghosts and scenery an evanescent function of the street lamps' discs of artificial light that the gap between her immateriality and the tangibility of substance narrowed most. Only then could she bear to walk among the living, with which she no longer belonged.

She started floating out from her memorial, but was startled by the appearance of two shining lilac orbs in the shadow of a crypt beside her. The darkness parted slowly as she watched, eventually melting off completely to reveal a girl decked in red and black, with a white streak running down the middle of her long brown hair.

"My name is Gosunkugi Skeride," she said, "but you may call me Death."

--

**END SKERIDEXTREMES **


	18. Terror

TERROR

A Dark Slapstick

by 4cw6

For Vilja

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"There are few who'd deny

At what I do, I am the best

And my talents are renowned

Far and wide.

When it comes to surprises

In the moonlit night

I excel without ever even trying.

With the slightest little effort

Of my ghost-like charms

I have seen grown men give out a shriek.

With a wave of my hand, and a well-placed moan

I have swept the very bravest off their feet."

-Danny Elfman

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soft and firm, the flesh. How still it lies. So odd that only breeze, an

outside draft should ruffle the cloth atop her epidermis. So odd that in my

own arm all the movement should be coming from within, from.. from... Not.

From. Me.

The parasites are on the go again, removing my attention from the pile of

meat in front of me. They demand my time, demand my notice. Nothing from

OUTSIDE could touch me, no outside force, but...

Ah, there they are. Look at the pretties, there on my wrist. Up and down

pulses the vein. I can feel them swimming through my deoxygenated blood,

can even see them - clearly! - as they stumble from branch to branch,

turning back whenever they hit a too-narrow capillary.

They're trying to get out, but they will learn. My blood vessels are a

closed system, and there is nowhere they can run to, nowhere to escape to.

They decided they were going in, and there they are. They've made a

decision, they can't turn back...

And neither can I.

We are much the same, these worms and I, both navigating as best we can

through the channels open to us. All our work, all our thoughts apart from

food and procreation are one thing: preparation. They nibble at my insides,

putting a wall here and another there, breeding in sensitive places so that

when they die, so will I, their host.

And what of me? What is my goal?

A particularly strong gust of wind tosses up a corner of the fallen sheet,

and two large eyes are suddenly upon me - two large, wet eyes with an

expression that can be interpreted as childish curiosity.

You want to know? (It wants to know.) But do I want to tell, do I want to-

Pain. It's nearer to my heart this time. They dig, they eat, and - oh!

Just STOP! Just LEAVE and-

Tell.

I see.

You want to know. You ALSO ask me. Food is not enough. You must have

information. Well, then.

You've heard, I'm sure, of other men, of other cardiovasculary systems.

There are millions, BILLIONS on this earth, but you, you're trapped. You

cannot leave my body to see those others... Not unless I were to set up a

transfusion between myself and some unfortunate, or manually place... Hrm.

Well, think now, for a moment, that we men are like yourselves. Think that

we crawl within a body cosmological, surrounded by uncountable others which

are nonetheless unreachable, and then suppose that one man, in one family,

had found a way to breach these walls. One worm among all all the others

had grown fangs, and could invade whatever corpse he would. That was my

grandfather - my grandfathers, all the many hundreds of them, for just like

all human bodies have the same basic type of cells, the same general organs,

so each world repeats its residents, in slightly varied form.

Oh, here, my dear, a stroke. Let me just pull this cloth around your neck,

like so... ah, yes, that's better, and - oh! you must not look at me like

that! I know you hate this talk of worms, I know how much you were disgusted

when I first showed my little houseguests to you, but - oh? What's that? You

will complain no more? I THOUGHT that'd be the case. So, where was I? Oh,

yes. My fear. My one and only terror.

So you see... Where is that knife? My grandfather and some of his

descendants - even some of ME, though I myself am not thus blessed - were

able to... Oh, here it is! slice THROUGH the spacetime cloth, to rip out

from their casings. And so one of them did, and came to me. Just like - it

stings. It stingstingstingsting DONE. The slice is DONE. Now just you

wait, soon we'll continue, face to... Bandage! Bandage! Ah, here you are!

What a vile little creature you seem to be, all weak and floppy, just like I

was. Stopping blood is easy. There. Now just some tape above the

patch... I WOULD use Plastiskin, but cursed Ono makes it.

Anyhow, you see? You see how large I am? Look, just, how I can hold you

with my thumb and forefinger. It's different on the other side, isn't it?

And you, there, on the ground - look closely. Yes. But that's enough. I

just wanted to show you. I want to SHOW you what will happen if you trust a

woman too much, if you let her into your confidence. I want to show you

that everything we do or don't has consequences. Bad ones. Always. Bad for

SOMEone.

Now, don't writhe! You LISTEN, and stay still! As I told you, so was I told,

by #2993, and he SHOWED me. For a while, he spoke to me, and gave me

counsel. I followed his suggestions, but there came a time when I wavered.

I wriggled. But then he pressed TIGHTER.

"Why should I do as you say?" I asked him. "Why should I follow your

orders, and lead a fool to greatness?"

Oh, but he showed me.

Infuriated, he tore not just ONE, but TWO passages through the ages. He led

me to where he had come from. It was a dark land with a red sky. There

were dead bodies in the streets, zombies in the fields and fearful half-men

peeking out of every house. We walked through layered graves, passed

rubbled skyscrapers, burnt-down farms, and finally came to a castle on a

hill. Tall spires, pointed gates, monstrous guards, but what caught me most

was the village at its base. It was purgatory, it was hell - it was HOME.

I knew the people there. I knew my teachers, fellows, grocers and there they

all were still, but subtly changed. They had been BROKEN. Figuratively and

literally they had been crushed. Some had no arms, some had no hands, all

had no souls. And what was worse... He could not stop me went I went my

usual way, when I walked through changed familiar corridors and ended up in

MY house, MY room, MY dungeon.

Never. Never could I... Not what I saw there. I couldn't. The faces, the

things they kept... They REACHED at me, and grabbed, and they were not all

there, all here. They did not belong there, and neither did I.

"This is where the path of weakness leads," #2993 warned me. "This is where

you'll end if you decide that you want beauty, art and poetry."

But that is what the fool is after! was my counter. He replied he did not

want the fool, the world did not want such a thing, but what it wanted, what

it needed was that someone should fall that I might rise, that I might

hold the power and protect, and fend off... that which his own land had

become.

He told me what had happened at great length, illustrating his points with

roadside displays - a grisly walking tour. He taught me that I could afford

no kindness, if it would lead me to stray from the appointed lane. The

slightest mis-step landed one in an inverted fairyland, with malevolent

sprites distorting all you cared for, all you loved. Ruthlessness was the

only way. Temporary discomforts for some, in exchange... not for future

pleasures - the world is not so kind - but for sidestepping the pit that my

society (that OUR society, he corrected himself) was headed towards.

You lying there, you think you're fine, and you in my hand, you think hardly

at all. The ugliness and cunning which assaulted me there are more than a

math for your imagined beauty and lack of wit. And what had precipitated

the disaster? What had been the cause of this which I saw and could never

must never would never allow to encroach upon MY world, MY realm, MY

reality?

Yes. You guessed. But then, you cheated. Yes.

A parasite.

A foreigner, hiding for many years on an undetectable island, floating from

port to port, gathering forces and supporters. His allies were like yours,

worms within the veins of high society, moving up and down, in and out,

feeding not themselves, but HIM. Or her. Or... whatever it was that monster

decided to call itself.

It was - it IS - it WAITS... a magical foe with centuries of experience, and

hate to fuel its army. Concentrated evil met with widely dispersed good,

and the result?

Oh, poor dear. I'd wipe the tears from your cheek if you still wept. Why,

yes - in that case the outcome is always...

Destruction.

Utter and complete. Mental, spiritual, economic, physical. Might over

right, and so it stayed. #2993 had watched helpless as this happened. He

could not intervene in any way that would be useful, so he observed, took

notes, and then found a reality, a body cosmic similar to his where the

event had not yet taken place - and entrusted preparation for it to his

Doppelganger.

What could I do?

My, you ARE nosy, aren't you? But then you always did have such a cute and

buttony little thing there, between your eyes, the - But there's really SO

much more between your eyes now, isn't there?

I TOLD you to stop fidgeting! No wriggling, or I'll toss you into a

candle-flame.

Ah.

A candle, and its flame.

I had almost forgotten.

The foreign parasite, the fiend for whose arrival I must prepare... How WILL

I crush him? He has monsters on his side, that much I saw, and in the ruins

there were tanks, and planes, and aircraft carriers... Not to mention his

accomplices.

With those last, I can deal, for forewarned is forearmed, and I too can

crawl through a foreign host's vital passages. My dear, my beloved, my hated

wife - what do you think she is? Correct! A way to keep tabs on those

loooovely Kurenais. Aren't they dears, the betrayers? But their thick necks

aren't much suited to ties. One of these days I'll send them a present - a

good hemp slip-knot.

Too bad the invader's armies aren't as easy to dispose of. No normal human

could survive their onslaught.

So I will not send a normal human 'gainst them. I will breed my own,

tailor-made. Heightened strength, inhuman endurance, ability that INCREASES

under torture, and especially an inability to fear - an IMMUNITY to Terror.

And why? Because Terror DRIVES. It has driven ME, it has driven YOU, and it

has driven many others to insanity and back.

Poor Sakuin.

Rich Tofu.

But you, I've spoken far too much. It's late, I'm tired, I must sleep. To

bed with me, but first - to bed with you. You heard it all, did you not?

You heard what I said - a good bedtime story... the best!

Oh, dear Lizzie, your braids are always in the way. Let me part them. Here,

over again, and oh! There it is. That hole between your eyes, if I can

just... Are they still there? I was sure that I... Let me try with my index

finger. Tissue, bone, the frontal lo- no, there they are. Oh, yes, my

pretties.

Worm, go join your siblings!

Ah! No more writhing! What a dear! Perhaps you sense a mate within my

former mistress, hrm? I'm sure her head is FULL of special memories for you

to burrow through, but please be quick, because she rots, you know!

And that reminds me...

Dial.

The phone.

"Aridu? Kyoofu here. I am afraid that Miss Fields has passed away. A

deadly parasite reached her brain. I tried to operate on an emergency

basis, but they'd bred too prolifically. I wonder if you could... An hour?"

I'll wait.

For, after all, what is a mere sixty minutes when one has such pleasant

company?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"But who here could ever understand

That the Pumpkin King with the skeleton grin

Would tire of his crown

If they only understood

He'd give it all up

If he only could..."

-Danny Elfman

END


	19. Vision

Prologue: Somewhere in Central Japan, 2087

The boy took a few steps forward, and filled the mirror with his

image.

Combed brown hair and a tidy ponytail framed a face which wore a

carefully rehearsed stoic expression. He had to show that he... That he

was not weak, like his brother... That he could ENDURE... That he could

SURVIVE...

And facial expressions were ever so important, as Sakuin often

reminded him. If he didn't get them right...

His skin paled as he lost control and allowed an eyebrow to relax

slightly. Were that seen, he'd... He'd...

Blank your mind, Sable... 

He looked inside himself, and saw a few thoughts moving through his

field of consciousness.

Tests.

Experiments.

Trials.

And training. Always training. He had to, of course. If he was to

be strong, he had to learn how to forget. He had to rid himself of all

the useless organic instincts, and not flinch away from pain, or avert

his eyes from light, or...

There it was. There was the feeling that was causing so much

trouble... Always the same one; the same useless mental vagabond that

walked his neural pathways and distracted him.

It would tease, and pull at his conditioning, trying to weaken it, to

soften it, to perhaps make him laugh at a joke, or feel pity towards one

of the mutilated orphans on those war videos he was often shown...

Of course, whenever he tried to pinpoint it and eliminate it, it

would laugh at him, and run away faster than he could catch it.

Ironic. He had all the strength he could wish for; all the brute

POWER, but his brother, that failure that crept and whined and led a life

of softness; that creature that was not deigned worthy to even know of

his existence, HE had all their father's speed, and more, and HE would

have no trouble going to this monster...

Why?

He'd asked Sakuin about that once, and she'd cleared it up for him.

Or had she?

Sable shook his head, and put his hand on his forehead. So hard to

remember sometimes... Memories just came and went, never permanent... It

was so much easier to hear the truth from the Directors, or from

movies... But...

Yes. She HAD told him.

He remembered now.

"Your HALF-brother is fast, that much is true," she had admitted.

Half-brother. I must keep that in mind. Always. 

"And he has other... Talents... But he only uses them to run AWAY

from things, never to face them. If he is hurt, he cries. If he bleeds,

he screams. And if he experiences pain..."

"He is strengthened!" he'd cried, finishing the first chant he had

ever learned.

Executress Gosunkugi had slapped him, then.

"He is not. You are not the same, you and he. HE was the first; an

experiment. YOU are the finished product. He is a nuisance; you are a

warrior. YOU, Sable, must stand to your enemies, and NEVER back down;

NEVER let them know that you are capable of weakness... And the only way

you can be sure of that is..."

She waited for his answer.

"By being strong!"

"Incorrect."

"By... By..." He'd forgotten the right answer, and she had to prompt

him.

"Strength in itself is not enough. You must be free of weakness."

"I.. I see..."

"Think. What causes weakness?"

"Pity?"

"Among other things."

"Re... Reacting?"

"Reacting to what? It is, after all, good to react to my commands, is

it not?"

"Hai."

"You are nearly there..."

"Reacting to... To..."

"Think of it this way. What is the most perfect profession, Sable?"

"That of the soldier."

"Correct. And what is the perfect soldier?"

"He who obeys."

"And does what else?"

"Naught else."

"Correct. He must not be deterred from his objective, regardless of

the consequences to himself. Only THEN will he find strength. Remember

that always, Sable."

"Yes, Gosunkugi-sensei."

"Pain is bliss."

"Pain is bliss..."

"Endurance is the only thing to pride yourself on."

"Endurance... Endurance is right..."

"And..." Her eyes had narrowed. "EMOTIONS are a weakness."

"Emotions... Are a weakness..."

"Tell me, Sable. In all the natural kingdom, what is that with the

least emotions?"

"Stone."

"And what is the strongest substance?"

"Stone."

"That, too, keep in mind. You must be a stone soldier. Unwavering,

unfeeling, taking joy only in the accomplishment of your mission. As the

sword is made more powerful through being tempered, so must you be.

Understood?"

He had understood.

His half-brother could run away from problems. He was good at that;

but it was up to HIM, as the finished product of the project, to save

their family's honour... Their father's, his MOTHER'S... HE had been

deprived of anything that would entice him to flee from confrontation,

because he would not be stopped... He would destroy his enemies...

Like this one before him.

He concentrated once again on the battlefield of his mind, and saw

his opponent clearly.

Fear.

The grinning golem was more bold this time, because it knew what

Sable was about to go through. It knew that today was the decisive

testing, and that all of the stone soldier's future depended on the

results...

And so it didn't run away.

That was its fatal mistake.

The boy projected an avatar into his inner space, suited in his

mother's uniform.

The monster bared its teeth, confident in its triumph as it tugged at

his conditioning, straining it, almost to the point of breaking, and just

as it was about to snap...

The spatula swung down and cleaved it in two, causing it to vanish.

Sable smiled, and willed his knight to disappear.

He had triumphed. The creature would bother him no longer... Not for

today, at any rate, and that was what mattered.

The eyebrow shifted back into its prepared position, and he smoothed

the last few wrinkles out of his blue school uniform.

Sable heard the Director's door swing open, and a familiar voice call

out:

"Director Ono will see you now."

He pivoted flawlessly on the heel of a polished black dress shoe.

"I am ready."

V I S I O N

Quotes:

"Sometimes a traumatic experience can... Alter your perception..."

-From 'The Frighteners'

"Libera animas ... de profundo laeu ... ne cadant in obscurum."

"Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine: et lux perpetua luceat eis."

-From the Requiem Mass

[Office of the Director - Onocorp Sable Site, 2087

"You summoned me, sir?"

"Yes."

Director Tanaro Ono swung on his seat to face the newcomer.

It always impressed him to see the boy. Only ten years old (or was

it eleven, now?) and yet so... Controlled... So...

Imposing.

Not like Reiraku at all.

This one was full of confidence. Every ounce of his body exuded -

well, not CERTAINTY, per se, but 'lack of doubt'. Not to mention his

OTHER attributes...

His mother's sense of responsibility, his father's endurance...

He'd BETTER have it, and more, after all we've done to make sure of

it... 

But, the OBEDIENCE... THAT was all theirs. Gosunkugi was very good at

indoctrination, and the thick half-Hibiki skull of her subject had been

especially receptive.

A good thing, too, considering the nature of his... Abilities...

Which they were going to test today, fully, for the first time.

"I am ready, sir."

The boy was unreadable. They'd taught him well.

"Excellent." He gave two nods. "Hokoriko, Sakuin. You may begin."

His wife and assistant stepped from his side, and walked a few steps

before stopping and pulling out their tasers.

Sable looked ahead impassively, and waited.

[A-321 Kunou Hall: 2093

White moonbeams snuck into the room past the half-open window and

onto Childra's face, turning her teary eyes into paler miniatures of the

stars outside.

A slight breeze ruffled the drapes and brushed a few dark strands

across her forehead, but her only reaction to the cold was to bring the

comforter up past her shoulders.

It'd been a busy day.

Much was changing; in a short time, she'd gone from lonely and quiet

to... Well... How could she best describe it? It had probably started

with her research trips to cemeteries; she saw in the spirits reflections

of herself - solitary, constantly bemoaning the failures of their past -

she'd felt sorry for them, and resolved that she'd never join them...

Never again...

She would help the sorry ghosts, and comfort them, but it would be as

one of the LIVING. That resolution had paid off unexpectedly - she was

now respected by the dead, and even had developed valued frienships.

Neville, Akane...

They, too, had shown her the importance of not hiding within herself.

For some things, later was too late.

Then, university. It'd been quite a suprise to find that she was

actually attractive, and even more of one that she'd enjoyed receiving

THOSE attentions.

Now she found people envying her outwardness, her 'assertiveness',

the attributes she'd always seen in others, and never in herself...

So many changes...

Her companion moaned slightly and, still asleep, tried to pull back

some of the blanket.

Childra turned her head towards the Hibiki, grinning. When they'd

met, it seemed like they would never be able to find common ground: one

was a quiet student, trying to earn her first degree, the other the

swashbuckling head of the department.

They'd managed, somehow, and now...

Now, her career was going to receive a jump-start. Her own project

hadn't been approved yet, true, but just the thought of being able to go

on a 'jump before her doctorate...

There'd been a time where she'd been thrilled even to set foot in a

historic town, a time when she had never DREAMED that she would ever be

anything but meek and studious, and now it was her dreams that took her

back there, to where the metamorphosis that now concluded had begun,

gently covering her eyes with the sand of sleep and transporting her back

to -

[Shirotori Central High School, 2087

Childra looked through the dusty glass of the schoolroom window,

taking in the sights of Shirotori. In the distance, green hills poked

lazily out of a cool grey mist, the treetop cover being broken

occasionally by the red roof of a temple. Closer to her, she could make

out bathers at the riverside, and even a few couples picnicking on the

grassy slopes surrounding the main residential area.

Here, on the edge of Hakusa national park, modern civilisation had

yet to arrive. Neither the cultural nor the technological changes of the

last hundred years had seemed to have left much of an impression;

everything was just as it was in the late twentieth century. Kunou's

legacy was only visible in the currency, and even THAT was a partial

triumph, since the townsfolk (young and old alike) always referred to

their money as 'yen'.

An old man in a nearby alley caught her eye, as he stepped boldly

forward on his afternoon promenade. His short and wrinkled frame, though

worn, had a nobility about it seldom seen these days, and complemented

the architecture of the area perfectly. All the buildings were in the

traditional style, and even the new ones were no taller than four

stories, by law.

It sent a thrill through her to be this close to the past, to be

immersed in a culture that should by all means have disappeared after the

Revolution. She was a historian at heart, and to be allowed to go to

school here was simply...

"Jansen? Are you listening to me?"

Awful. Simply awful. The sights were wonderful, and she loved

exploring the surroundings on her own, but to have to deal with teachers

like HIM...

"Hai, Genzai-sensei."

She WAS listening. Not paying attention, but LISTENING, as a mouse

will listen for a hawk.

He looked at her in silence.

She hated these moments. She couldn't look away, for fear of

punishment, and to look into his eyes... Into his EYE...

Half a dozen years ago, the story goes, he'd lost one of them in an

automotive accident, and since then he'd been supplied with a cybernetic

replacement.

Machinery covered half his face; the prosthetic was a cheap model

that didn't even bother to disguise the metal or wire pathways, and what

should have been a globe, a sphere, or something even VAGUELY human was

instead a telescoping lens.

A lens which now extended towards her, scanning, sending deity knew

what information to his mind.

What was he looking at? Her heat sigs? Muscle twitches? Brain waves?

Or... Or her body?

Rumours ran around the school, saying that the man had plucked out

his own eye just so he could have an Onocorp replacement and gaze at his

female students' forms...

Childra instinctively put her arms across her bosom and crossed her

legs, trying to hide what she could, and knowing that it was impossible,

knowing that it was futile even to speculate what was being shown and

what was not.

He KNEW.

What he wanted to find out, he would, with that eye of his.

And what he wanted, no one knew.

"Perhaps," he spoke, cold and distant, "you could explain to us the

effect of twentieth century literature on modern writers?"

She paled, and he smiled, half-revealing yellowed teeth.

The face drew closer.

"Hmmm?" it asked. Or did it? Maybe it was just the purr of a

machine...

"I... I..."

"According to Markus, whom we have just discussed."

"I can't! I..."

"You know what this means."

"I... I... Don't..."

Yes, I do... The Field... 

The Isolation Field was an impenetrable energy barrier, seldom used

by other teachers, but which Genzai gave out to his students like bread

crumbs to pigeons.

"No?" The teacher grinned, sunlight reflecting off his lens. "It

seems you are about to find..."

[Office of the Director - Onocorp Sable Site, 2087

"Sire; the subject has been connected to the monitoring apparatus."

Daimonji Chashaku stood somewhat uneasily in the middle of the room, the

occasional nervous shiver sending ripples coursing down his ample, aged

sides.

Odd, thought Tanaro. What could be worrying him? Daimonji was in

charge of power allotment for the Sable site. They were on a tight

budget, in THAT respect, if not monetarily... Secrecy and the need for

independence for the underground bunker from the main lines had forced

them to work on a shoestring energy budget. So far, everything had run

smoothly...

Or had it?

Today's tests involved high-powered, concentrated radiation...

"What about the shielding?"

"In place."

"You're sure he'll be... You're sure WE'LL be safe?"

"If these walls can't contain him, Sire, nothing can. And... I can

vouch for the radiation."

"Good..." Something didn't seem quite right, though... The

shielding was fine, the electrodes were secured, but he STILL looked

drawn out, and pale... Almost like a Gosunkugi - quite the feat,

considering he weighed as much as that whole family put together... "You

look worried, Daimonji. Is something the matter?"

"No! Of course not!"

He was lying. Through his teeth.

"Tanaro sweetened the tone of his voice and put his arm around the

technician. After all, even the bitterest of teas could be made to yield

a pleasant flavour, if mixed with enough saccharin...

"Is something concerns you, engineer, surely you may tell ME..."

"But..." He swallowed and wet his wrinkled lips, trying to bring

moisture to a mouth that had long gone dry.

"Am I not your friend, as well as your employer?" The words flowed

like corn syrup off his tongue, and every one of them was insincere. Ono

didn't like to make a habit of deception, but if there was a problem with

the SABLE program...

"O... Of course, Director Ono."

"Well, what is it then?"

"I..." Chashaku looked down, and twiddled his fingers. "Are all those

tests - the energy ones, I mean... Are they really NECESSARY?"

Necessary??? For YEARS they'd been planning this, and NOW, at the

eleventh hour, he had doubts? Someone must have been planting ideas in

his head.

"Of COURSE they're necessary!" Tanaro let go of his charitable

facade along with Daimonji's neck. "You KNOW that unless Sable's in

pain, he's not NEARLY strong enough to be of use to us..." A slight

exaggeration. But why settle for Ryouga oh point nine when they could

have two point oh?

"Us?"

Curse him. If he continued along that train of thought, Chashaku

would make himself VERY expendable, VERY quickly. Naivete and

intelligence were often a deadly combination.

"The military. I meant the military. Onocorp is a PEACEFUL

organisation, of course."

"As you say, Ono-san."

"What our clients DO with their products is no concern of ours."

"Understood... Still... He's only eleven!"

"Only eleven? You make it sound as if he were a... A person... He's

a machine! No... LESS than a machine. He's a TOOL. We made his body from

the most basic ingredients, custom-crafting it to suit our needs

PRECISELY, then we MADE his PERSONALITY..."

"Sakuin..." There was a trace of bitterness in his voice. The two

had had a falling-out? Interesting...

"Madame Gosunkugi is quite good at what she does, as today's

preliminary trial shows. Rather impressive, I'm sure you'll agree... Not

a twitch when the two tasers were fired on his abdomen, and enough of a

strength increase to smash granite when ordered to do so. Quite a

remarkable TOOL."

Was that a scowl he saw?

My, my... Daimonji certainly is daring today... 

"What about Reiraku?" he asked.

"WHAT?!?"

"What about Reiraku? Have you told Penelope that he's only a 'tool',

as well?"

The Director struggled to keep calm while his facial capillaries

swelled with blood.

He's going too far... 

"Daimonji, you will leave my sister OUT of this.. Is that

understood?"

For once, Chashaku was as expressionless as Sable.

"Perfectly, Ono-san."

His insolence will not go unpunished... 

"You are NEVER," he said, emphatically waggling his finger, "NEVER to

speak of Project R within these walls."

"I will not." A pause. "Director."

Let him have his fun for now... 

"Are you through whining, engineer, or are there any REAL

objections?"

"You sound like a western Minister..." Daimonji enunciated. "Speak

now, or forever hold your peace?"

"More or less."

He will pay in full for his words. But at the moment... There is

business to attend to... 

Tanaro wondered what could have possibly happened to make him so

bold. He'd been so... Meek... before, and with his parentage... Maybe he

was finally going senile, in his old age? His wits and problem-solving

skills had been invaluable in the past... If that was so...

No matter. His present state of mind was the only thing of

importance. It would not go untreated.

"The reactor is already near capacity, as is."

"I am aware of that. There was no way to bring a nuclear facility to

Shirotori in secret, except by making it as small as possible."

"With today's energy tests... The lasers, fields, bombardments...

We'll certainly EXCEED that limit."

"We MUST go through with them, Daimonji. You know how the other

nation-states are building up their beam arsenals... And if our product

is to be successful as a prototype for the manufactured soldier, we must

be certain that he can thrive under such conditions. Is there nothing you

can do? Divert power from other activities, or..."

"You don't seem to realise how much energy you are asking for,

Director. We'd need a whole new reactor to.."

"That's it, then. Hook up to the Shirotori power supply."

"Sire?"

"Connect us to their power grid. Create a plausible explanation for a

blackout, just in case, and let us use THEIR energy. We DO still have

operatives at the power company, is that not so?"

"Hai, Ono-san... But... If it's a busy day, then theoretically we

could still..."

Tanaro laughed. The man's naivete, combined with his cartoonish

figure, was almost enough to let him forgive his indiscretions.

Almost.

"A BUSY day? In SHIROTORI? They're still using fireflies to keep

their rooms lit at night!"

"If you are certain, Sire..."

"I am."

"Very well. May I..." He gestured towards the door.

"You may. Dismissed."

Tanaro watched him leave, and once the door had clicked shut, tapped

a panel on his desk.

"Sakuin?"

"Yes, Sire?"

He would not go unpunished. Simple respect for elders would not stay

his hand. Not this time.

"Daimonji's just left my office. He's off to do some... Repair work

to the electrical system. When he's done, apprehend him, and take him to

a suitable interrogation cell."

"Sire?"

The guilty must be punished, he reminded himself, then took a deep

breath:

"I think we've just found the perfect 'test' for Sable."

[Nowhere, Notime

"...out."

And then, the whiteness came. A bright hot flash, approaching from

the front, that blinded me, but right before it touched my skin, stopped

short. Instead, I was encapsulated in a cold and sterile artificial

globe, to keep away the heat which nature had entombed outside.

Beyond the bounds of my confine, it may be light, but inside all was

dark. I could perceive the luminosity, but not touch it, and much as I

moved, or struggled, it stayed distant, far away...

Why... Why had this happened?

Try to think, Childra, try to think... 

My memories were slurred, spinning like a thick bean soup when

stirred, all mussed and lumped into a semi-solid mass. Bits of what

might be an individual item formed and surfaced, only to regroup before I

could focus on them.

One of them drifts by me...

My arm automatically reaches for it, touching it... Or not?

In this muddled state, the constructs of my mind take physical

reality or a fair semblance of it, so it would come as no surprise if I

could literally clutch my ideas...

Wu li... 

Have I gone mad? I ask, but no one answers. I cannot, myself, for

at the moment I do not remember sanity, and for the others...

My friends. They'll know... I... I remember... I wasn't alone, I was

with... With...

With no one. 

They have disappeared.

The scene has changed.

I am no longer in my world of black and white; I am in...

Central Shirotori? 

How... 

My hand... There's something in my hand... 

It is that bit of me I'd seen before, that fragment I could not make

out when it first passed. I must have grabbed it, after all...

I force myself to release my grip, and look at what was clutched

within it. It's a heart-shaped silver locket, old and dented so that

once-ornate leafwork is reduced to a barely distinguishable bas-relief.

What's more, it's open, and whatever it once held, it's empty...

Or rather, I correct myself as I look around, it seems that what was

inside of it has slipped without and filled my surroundings...

Is this what it contains? Is it a memory, or a clue?

I walk, dazed, holding the strange item to my chest (close to my

heart), and try to see what's happened now.

[Onocorp Sable Site: Pain Room - 2087

Sakuin stepped into the room, flipping on the light switch and

closing the door behind her. Familiar panels of complicated

instrumentation lined the walls of the 'Pain Room', but one thing was

different this time... The occupant of the X-shaped metal cross on the

end was not SE-1B-Y-L, but Chashaku.

He was breathing with difficulty, sweat streaming down his face and

pouring down onto his ample chest as he gasped. Apparently, the

attendants had already... Softened him. From there, the water droplets

coursed down the rest of his naked body, past the folds of fat around his

waist, down along his wide, strong hips and along the sides of his

trunk-like legs... He was massive, but his face... It seemed somehow...

Not right... Somewhat emaciated, perhaps? His eyes were jutting from

their sockets, burying into her head, BLAMING her...

Sakuin snapped herself out of her reverie. She wouldn't be fooled.

He'd brought this on himself.

Now, to begin the interrogation.

"We found an amazing amount of transceiving equipment hidden in your

clothes... Care to explain?"

"Nice to see you too, Sakuin." The voice was gruff and the tone

unpleasant, the more so because of the memories it held.

"I asked you a question."

"Haven't you heard of respect for your elders?"

"Answer me."

"I... It was necessary for maintenance work. Tools-"

"Tools..." she interrupted, tapping the side of her surgical mask as

she spoke. "Yes, we found tools also. Incredible how much can fit into a

suit with no pockets... Very careful seaming. Who's your tailor?"

No answer. Only a grunt, and a lowering of the head.

"Never mind... I think I know." The head snapped up, and the face

wore a look of alarm. "I like you better WITHOUT your clothes, anyhow..."

"You... Know... What?" The words came slowly, as if he were trying

to get past some sort of mental barrier... It would make sense, if he'd

been used...

"Your tailor. I think I know HER."

"You're bluffing."

"Am I?"

"You always DID think you knew everything."

"Oh, but I do..." She moved closer to him and ran her hand across

his scalp. "Your hair's sagging... Are you sure you don't want...

Something to stick it up?"

Chashaku gasped, and his face straightened into a perfect poker

expression.

Oh, so you DID notice... Clever boy. 

"Don't touch me," he growled.

"Oh, I'm so hurt..." She withdrew her hands and put them into her

pockets.

"I doubt that. No one can get past that stonish skin of yours. You

have no feelings."

"I did once."

"That wasn't FEELING, that was an OBSESSION."

"I only wanted to BE with you, to TOUCH you..."

Now prepared, she took her hands and ran them over his back, feeling

the warm, glistening skin, searching, and concentrating as she whispered

the words into his ear... Her chest was pressed against his, and he was

unable to move away, while she intertwined her neck with his own, placing

her head in a better position to see... To see the glowing dots form on

his skin.

When they had reached the full extent of their brightness, Sakuin

buried her iron fingernails into as many as she could, transferring just

enough of her energy to cause small eruptions at the centre-most points.

Chashaku screamed, and as she disengaged herself he looked at her

with wild eyes.

Sakuin cackled.

"At last, I get under your skin."

"How..."

She undid her mask with a snap. Once it'd fallen to one side, she

grinned and licked the excess blood, skin fat and bits of bone from her

press-on claws.

"Studying Ryouga's attacks for decades tends to give one... Special

knowledge."

"Bakusai-ten-ketsu..."

"Oh? You know of it?" Sakuin arched an eyebrow. This was...

Suggestive, to say the least.

"Rumours, only."

"And not quite correct ones..." She once again bent over him and

stroked his chest, feeling, touching, pressing on the fat until she felt

the bumps beneath, until she saw the luminescent pinpricks... Which she

proceeded to jab with clinical accuracy.

Specks of bone erupted from the sites, splattering the room with pale

skin, globs of fat and drops of blood on their way out of Chashaku. By

the time Daimonji was done screaming, only a few small red gashes bore

witness to the deed.

"It's the Bakusai-ten-KATSU," explained Sakuin, lifting up her hands

in exhibition. "The blasting point VICTORY. Quite an improvement,

wouldn't you say?"

"Sakuin... How could you..." The phrases came with difficulty in

between his bouts of hyperventilation.

"No... How could YOU? Listen to me, Chashaku." She grabbed him by the

shoulders, digging her claws in randomly, this time. "I GAVE myself to

you. I offered you all I had, all I WAS, and you REJECTED it."

"I was old enough to be your father..."

"That didn't matter!"

"You were obsessed..."

"Oh, really?"

She narrowed her eyes and looked at him. He looked back with a

mixture of curiosity and fear. Smiling, she took her right index finger

and led its metallic nail down his chest; past the sternum, across the

smears of blood, to the belly-button and lower, until...

"It's no use.. No bone THERE was ever hard enough to fracture."

Sakuin erupted into maniacal laughter, but was interrupted by a beep

from the one-way speaker above the door.

Hokoriko's voice.

"Sable tests in five minutes. Finish the interrogation NOW, Sakuin."

"Hmm... That's right..." She stroked her chin, recalling a forgotten

detail. "This IS an interrogation..."

The Gosunkugi took Chashaku's face in her hands and pressed it close

against her own.

"Care to tell me where those transmissions were going?" she purred.

"What transmissions." A statement, not a question, and said with a

grim face and firm eyes. It was surprising that he still hadn't betrayed

his associates, after all the pain he'd been through... She'd never

thought him to be the type to have a backbone.

"You had enough hidden in that coat to start your own vid station.

I'm sure you weren't taking home videos."

"I... Keep records of everything I do for... Aid in maintenance."

"Liar." She pulled away and walked to the one of the wall-mounted

control panels. A turn of a knob, to start his cross spinning, then a

flick of a switch, to add an electric shock to each revolution... It

took a while for the speed to build up, because of his weight, but once

the spinning had truly started, it was well worth watching. Each spark

elicited a scream, and the faster they came, the closer the cries were to

each other, until at last they were just one continuous high-pitched

whine...

That's when she stopped it.

He ended up upside-down, but that was no concern of hers. It simply

meant that Sakuin had to crouch somewhat, before speaking to him.

So, she did.

"Who?" she asked.

"Tei..."

"What?"

"Table."

Of course. The equipment. What they'd stripped from him was laid

out on a table just to her right. There was probably something important

there... But what?

"What about your hardware, Chashaku? What is it I should be looking

for?"

He opened his lips to speak, then stopped midway and closed his eyes,

staying silent.

"Tell me!"

Nothing.

She waited all she could, but forced herself to rise when the speaker

came to life.

"Sakuin," said Hokoriko, from elsewhere in the complex, "we can't

wait any longer. Join us in the Arena. NOW."

Oh, well. At least she now knew where to start her search.

Wiping her knees, she hinged her mask back over her mouth and went

back to the cross controls. Daimonji pleaded, but that only made it more

enjoyable to let him watch as she slowly turned the RPM knob to full and

the electricity to maximum.

"Don't worry," she said before pressing the start button, "As you've

pointed out, we're short on power. I'm sure that it will shut off LONG

before Sable is ready for you."

On her way out, she turned off the light switch and closed the door,

so his screams would not disturb the functionaries in the hallway.

[Nowhere, Notime

Am I awake, asleep, or dead?

No one seems to notice me. I wander through the busy streets, and see

the markets, with their matrons dressed in flowery kimonos, and

fruit-peddlers selling the last of their wares before the sunset...

No one blinks an eye at the untraditionally-dressed teenager with the

raven hair.

Not that I mind...

I'm floating at the moment, unconcerned, living a fever dream in

health, and in a favourite place of mine...

If this is a dream, I hope I can remember it... And if it is a

memory, a lunatic's recreation of fond times, let it never be

forgotten... 

Shirotori is beautiful, especially at this time of day... An

orange-and-red sky shines down on couples taking slow-paced walks to

grassy slopes. Once there, they recline, and look up at the wispy clouds,

reflecting (or refracting?) the Sun's rays into a pinkish colour,

shadowed blue.

To walk through its streets, on the worn cobblestones, to feel at

once familiarity and the excitement of rediscovery... It makes

butterflies beat against my chest, and lifts my head even higher than it

is... To the clouds...

I look up at the beautiful twilight, the Sun now a disc just barely

above the horizon.

Strange, how a light can be so bright, so warm, and yet be painless

to the eye...

[Sable Testing Command Centre - 2087

Below the Director, multicoloured beams of light (and other energy)

danced in star-like patterns, starting from various projectors, but all

terminating on the head of a small boy.

They'd been done with the PHYSICAL tests for some time, now... A

broken tank and the rubble of what had been walls were proof of THAT...

Now, they were onto more... Subtle... Levels. There was a certain KIND

of pain that just COULDN'T be reproduced by tasers, or thumbscrews, or

cutting implements... Often, one had to go to the ROOT of something if

one wanted results.

In this case, that meant the brain.

"You're certain, Sakuin?"

His assistant turned her head, pointing her dark goggles at him.

She'd be laughing now, if she ever did. After so many years, Ono assumed

she'd lost the ability to move her facial muscles in that way... That

is, if she'd ever POSSESSED it... Then again, who could tell what went

on behind that surgical mask she always wore?

"I am always certain, Tanaro."

"How silly of me to forget."

"The preliminary analyses showed a two-point-oh potential strength

peak."

"I am aware of that."

"Today's tests only reached one-point-five."

He looked behind him, at the test chamber. There were the remains of

a few granite barriers, assorted metal ones, burning fragments of

military machinery...

"I'd say it's quite enough, Sakuin."

She shook her head.

"It isn't enough. Sable's strength increases with his pain. If we can

raise the amount he feels..."

"We've already used all the methods of torture known to be current

in..."

She waved him into silence.

"And THAT is why we are tapping directly into his pain centres."

"That's what the light show is for, I take it?"

"Most of it. Some of it just transmits data back to us. The rest,

yes, does stimulate the electrodes we planted earlier. If he survives, it

should bring him up to two-point-oh."

"If?"

Her goggles glinted, almost with... Amusement?

"There is always the chance that even SE-1B-Y-L will buckle under

sufficient pressure." A pause. "Director."

"If we lose him..."

"Then the project will have been a failure. We shall learn from our

mistakes, and start anew. Onocorp cannot afford to support more than

ONE... False start in this branch of its operations."

Reiraku... It always came back to that. To HIM. It's true, he wasn't

what they had expected, what they had hoped for... But... He was

Penelope's SON, and on top of that, he'd made a promise. One he couldn't

break. He had to keep Project R going, at least until Nabiki...

"Very well," he said softly. "Proceed.."

"Whether I would was never in question."

Ono grunted. Sometimes, he wondered whether Onocorp wasn't STILL run

by a Gosunkugi.

"Hokoriko, how are the readings?"

His wife looked up from the display she manned, and took off her

earphones.

"Strength reads one-point-nine and rising. Are you all right, dear? "

"I.. I'm fine."

One-point-nine. To reach THAT high a point, the boy would have to be

in enough pain to... To...

There just weren't metaphors to cover it.

He looked through the bullet-proof glass to the arena below him.

Sure enough. Beads of sweat were forming on Sable's forehead, and one of

his eyebrows was twitching.

Nothing, apart from that.

"You've trained him well, Sakuin."

"You can flatter me when he's passed the final test, Tanaro."

The final... Oh. Chashaku. He'd... He'd brought his doom upon

himself, that one... He couldn't have been allowed to live...

It's not as if he had long to go before a natural death, in any

case... He was in his... What? Seventies? Eighties? At most, he had five

years left in him.

Then there was the matter of his sudden sentimentality, and

senility... Not to mention his poor judgment. What Sakuin had found

during the interrogation was damning, to say the least.

Having Sable... It was just... This way, his passing would PROVIDE

something. They needed to know if their soldier could KILL.

He closed his eyes, and placed his hands flat upon the table, while

he stood.

"The final test. Of course."

Tanaro was roused by a gasp from the console.

"Two-point-ONE, and RISING!"

"What?!?" The Director rushed to the screen, then turned to the

Gosunkugi. "I thought you said he could only go to two-point-OH!"

"I did," admitted Sakuin, cool as ever. "This is... unexpected."

"Are the sensors malfunctioning?"

Hokoriko shook her head, brushing aside the red-brown strands that

fell before her eyes.

"I just ran a check. Unless diagnostics are also off, they're fine."

"My, my... Sable is FULL of surpri..." Gosunkugi stopped her sentence

short. "He's turning blue," she said, never looking away from the window.

"He can't breathe..."

"Seems he couldn't take the pain..." They'd better not be

overloading him. It's bad enough to lose a defective model, but if we

lose the perfect prototype because we pushed him past his design

limits... He wondered whether the SE model now fit Sakuin's definition

of a success. "Is he a failure, then?" he asked.

"N... No. He's... Exceeded expected parameters. Get him air!

Hokoriko? Feed him oxygen!"

"I can't." The face of the director's wife was blank, and her tone

matter-of-fact.

"Why not?!?"

"He... Doesn't need it."

Gosunkugi stood still for a moment, and Tanaro guessed that

underneath her goggles, eyelids were fluttering rapidly.

"Give me that!" Sakuin grabbed at the console, swung it around to

face her, and began pounding away at the keyboard. "Breathing's

controlled, but healthy," she mumbled, "Still conscious... No tissue

damage... But..." She froze.

When 'Index' Gosunkugi showed ANY sign of emotion, something was

wrong.

"Sakuin?"

"According to the neural link, he..."

"Yes?"

"He isn't feeling any pain..."

An alarm sounded, sending Hokoriko scrambling frantically over her

controls.

"Energy build-up in the reactor link!"

"What?!? Do something! Where's it coming from?"

Tanaro's wife licked her lips, then swallowed.

"Sable," she said.

"Sable?"

"He's generating the burst. It's coming from him. And if it continues

for much longer..."

"He's not supposed to have that kind of power! What are his

readings?"

"Strength, stable at two-point-five."

"We need more. Run a full scan. NOW! Ki-peaks?"

She punched a few buttons, before intoning:

"His... His ki has been actualised from potential, and is stable

at... Oh-point-one."

"Then his skin..."

"Oh, deity..." Suddenly, it all fit together... With one-tenth of the

original Ryouga's ki abilities, he wasn't going to be doing any 'Shishi

Houkodans' anytime soon, but when one combined the energy-focusing

emotional-based talent he DID have with his ability to increase strength

under pain... That blue tint wasn't due to lack of oxygen... "Shut it

off! I want the testing terminated, NOW!"

"I need the codes..."

Blast their security. There was such a thing, Ono reflected, as

making something TOO foolproof.

"Voice check, Ono Tanaro, code alpha-ess-ee-one, order: terminate

testing for subject SE-1B-Y-L."

INSUFFICIENT PARAMETERS. PLEASE SPECIFY.

"All of it!"

INSUFFICIENT...

Too late. There was a far-off rumble, and a brief flicker as the

auxiliary generators kicked in.

In Sable's arena, all was dark.

[Nowhere, Notime

A ripple, and a change.

Shock. The locket which I hold against my chest dissolves into a

sky-blue light. It disappears, and all is metamorphosed.

As if a blind-string had been pulled by some enormous hand, the day

was gone, replaced by starless, misty night.

The people all around me disappeared, taking with them all the

warmth, all the softness of the evening breezes, and leaving... What?

A biting wind, that tore through clothes like mites through wood, a

dreamy canopy above, and below a twisted version of what once had been...

The darkness brought decay, and change. They very pebbles on the

street seemed hostile, and the architecture now was more grotesque than

beautiful.

Shadows jumped from here to there, twisty corners peeked from surreal

shapes, and all around the spawn of night-time wreaked their mischief on

the daytime town, painting over it their own twelve-hour facade.

Surely... Surely there was SOME way to bring things back to normal,

SOME way to prevent the change... There had to be SOME way to light...

The Moon.

I hadn't noticed it before, when I'd looked up, but it must be

there... The clouds are not enough to hide it tonight.

Where, then?

I craned my neck and scanned the heavens, 'til I found the grey-white

disc, emitting light only within itself, and letting none escape beyond

its local boundaries.

[Sable Testing Command Centre - 2087

"Status report, Hokoriko?"

"The reactor's gone."

"Deity... How... How much..."

"Radiation? Eight million becquerels."

"Eight million?" Sakuin smirked as she went over the diagnostic

routines. "Shirotori has half an hour to live."

"She's right, dear..." admitted his wife. Gosunkugi's coolness had

long since ceased to impress them both, and they now took it as a matter

of course that she would confront the most gruesome scenes with no

emotion stronger than clinical curiosity. "I'll have the drones scan for

life signs," she continued, "but at that level... It'll take them

thirty-five minutes just to reach the town centre, and by then..."

"I understand." Tanaro closed his eyes, and vented his frustration on

the palms of his hands. His fingernails dug deep, drawing blood... But

not as much as I have spilt today... That wasn't what bothered him,

though. Loss of life, he could deal with, but this... This didn't have to

happen. If only they'd STOPPED with the physical tests; Sable was never

going to encounter anything more than that in battle... Now they knew he

had some kind of ki ability, but it was of no use to them, and the

cost... No... It wasn't the LOSS of life that worried him. It was how

much he had WASTED. There was nothing he could do about it now. Best to

attend to the matters at hand. Slowly, he separated his eyelids. "What

about us?"

"We're safe... For the moment. The shielding set up for the Sable

project should keep out most of the energy... But..." Sakuin squinted at

a display, trying to make out details. "If you and Hokoriko are planning

on any more children, I would recommend evacuating as soon as possible."

"And yourself?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"I gave up on a... a family... Many years ago, Tanaro. All I have..."

She shook her head, as if to clear away unwelcome thoughts. "I'll stay

behind to take care of Sable."

"But..."

"No buts. All the beam generators were shut down, and the shock from

having the electrodes suddenly cut off left him unconscious, but once I

revive him, he'll be perfectly fine. I'll stay behind to finish

testing."

"Sakuin, you're going too far... What about the boy's own

susceptibility to radiation? If we lose him..."

"Sable has already proven his endurance. He can take whatever leaks

through containment, and more, for at least several hours, most likely a

day. Besides which, he's ALREADY sterile."

"He will be evacuated with us. You, too. We can't take the chance..."

"Listen to yourself. Is this truly 'Director Ono' of Onocorp

speaking? Or the man whose sister married into the Hibikis?" Tanaro

grimaced. "I thought so. We only have the Shirotori site for today; we

couldn't risk using after this, even if the radiation were under

control." A thoughtful pause. "I take it your KF people are ready with a

cover story?"

She thought of everything.

Then again, so did he.

Ono nodded.

"They'll pass this off as a bomb test in Hakusa Park gone awry.

There'll be some public outcry, of course, but..."

"But it's better than letting Sable out into the open. OR letting

Japan know that one of their quaint villages was actually an advanced

military research centre." In a Gosunkugi, phrases like these passed for

humour. "Agreed," she concluded.

"I've finished all the shutdown routines, darling." Hokoriko had

been busying herself with the intricacies of dismantling an underground

bunker, and now that she was done gave herself the luxury of arranging

her hair. "It's set to detonate the entrance charges tomorrow afternoon.

After that, this place will look like nothing but a normal hill with a

few landslides on its circumference."

"Good. Sakuin, when can we expect you in Tokyo?"

"SE-1B-Y-L and I will arrive tomorrow morning, if not this evening.

I must run the final test. After that, we will have nothing to keep us

here."

"Surely we can arrange for..."

"No. This is our only opportunity. Don't you see? Chashaku

presented himself openly as our opponent. He has no surviving relatives,

and thanks to his disguised paycheques, we can easily pass him off as

an... Industrial accident. Such a chance won't come again."

I certainly hope not... To think of the old man going through all

that... He threw a nervous glance at the wreckage left behind by the

physical tests. If the boy could demolish a tank, what could he do to an

obese, ancient electrician? He'd been with the Company for longer than

he himself...

"Sakuin, maybe I was a bit harsh on Daimonji... Perhaps we could..."

"Could what, ONO?" There was ice in her words. "Just like your

predecessor. It was Kyoofu who convinced him to go on... If management

were truly left to YOUR kind, there would BE no Project R; no Sable...

And you would still be a bankrupt, snivelling family, committed to the

resurrection of your greatest foe. You must learn that one must cast

AWAY emotions if one is to succeed. Chashaku broke the rules; he must pay

the price. ESPECIALLY since it is... Convenient for us. We must know if

he can fulfil his function. If not... We must start again. Any delay in

this could prove costly, and very INconvenient."

"Is that all you care about, Sakuin?" asked Hokoriko, disgust

apparent in her voice. "Convenience?"

"Is there anything else?"

"Of course there is!"

"I suppose you'll point to your marriage."

"I... I..."

"Which tied together the Musk dynasty and the Ono line."

All humanity went out of the woman's eyes, to be replaced by the

savage glint of a hunter. Gosunkugi could bandy words well, but she

would have to do better than that if she chose to insult the honour of

Herb's daughter.

"How DARE you even suggest that..." As she reached for her dagger, a

red light came on one of the consoles.

"Oh, dear... It looks like your transport is ready for you..."

"You... You PLANNED it that way, you..."

"You'd better hurry. Those trucks have considerably less shielding

than the bunker."

Reluctantly, Hokoriko removed her fingers from the jewelled hilt of

her weapon, and walked out the exit, never taking her eyes off the

executress.

Tanaro followed.

[Nowhere, Notime

And then, I see it is not an emitter, but something that draws in...

The pale half-glow that lets me make out details of the town is all that

earth can keep t'itself from this circle's inspection.

All it sees, it draws to itself; all it gazes at becomes absorbed.

And now, it focuses on ME.

I struggle, try to break away, but find myself confined within an

immaterial grasp; a force I cannot feel, but that I know surrounds me,

coats me, pulls me in...

The ground moves away, and I am thrust through blackness towards the

putrid, stolen light.

As I draw closer, I see more. Once-dark areas gain detail, showing

forms of grey and pale flesh pink, and...

No... It... It can't be... 

Eventually, the 'moon' itself strips its facade, to bare its true

form 'fore me...

No craters here, or mares, or dust, or rocks, but cold, unfeeling

polished glass surrounded by a frigid metal frame.

A lens.

Behind it, massive plates of circuitry and metal, forming a quarter

of a whole, the other being -

My teacher's face.

He'd followed me, and found me. Even here, inside my mind, inside

whatever Wonderland I'd jumped into, I could not hide.

The gargantuan face noticed my attention, and smiled.

Walls formed around me, closing in, bonding together at the edges...

Top, bottom, sides, and only a small view-hole left so I could look at

Genzai, and he at I.

I bang on the material, harder than concrete and rougher than

sandpaper, but gain only a few scrapes for my trouble. He sees, but does

not help, and what he looks at is not ME.

Desperate, I finger every corner, every indentation in the hope that

there might be SOME way out I've overlooked. All the while, I feel his

lens on me, searching, investigating, analysing my frame like a sample

under a biologist's microscope, and ignoring what's within it.

When IT looks inside, it sees lymph, and blood, and organs.

Not my soul.

I must get out; I must escape, I must go back, to where I am a

SOMEONE...

As if it'd read my mind (misread?) and thought it needed more than

visual examination of mon corps, the walls began to morph, remoulding in

parts, extending fibrous points, and causing them to grow from the

enclosure, t'wards me.

Metallic probes they are, tentacles that poke and pinch, taking

samples of my skin, my hair, and more.

I bat at them, but they continue; testing, tasting...

When they've done all they can in my present state, they try to

remove my clothes, tugging at my boots and jacket.

I resist, but they are many, and strong, and I know I cannot last for

long.

How can he do this?

Why must he do this?

Ask... 

Outside, the obscene face still is grinning, its Onocorp eye whirring

busily and taking pictures-

But the OTHER eye is organic.

It must have feelings.

It must know pity.

I cry to it, plead for help, for release, appeal to its humanity to

aid me, to treat me as something other than an interesting bit of data.

I have its attention, but not that which I want. The pale grey pupil

points towards me, but the eye burns red with lust, not sympathy.

The fire grows as it ogles my form, as it watches my vain fight

against its tendrils, and anticipates the moment when its inspection will

be complete.

Not even my tears seem to hold it back; not even the water streaming

from my eyes can make it call back its metallic minions.

Instead, its animalistic fever grows, spreading to the rest of the

face, brightening it, heating it, a crescendo in an unholy symphony of

soundless, emotionless instinct.

The pull grows, in both directions. I am now as drawn to HIM, as he

is towards me. We accelerate, much against my will...

What of my cage? Genzai seems oblivious to its solidity... He

ignores it, focusing instead merely on my OTHER casing... The fleshy one.

I brace myself, and close my eyes for the impact which I know must

come.

And, of course, it does.

There is a flash, a spiralling of sparks as stone clashes with metal,

and a shuddering, a shaking, a vibration...

The walls around me crumble. At every point where their outward

surfaces have come in contact with the face, there forms... A breaking

point... A glowing dot which catalyses the disintegration of what lies

around it. Eager for release, I try to speed the process, touching those

which's glow seems too weak to mature the explosions on their own...

A tap with a finger is all they need to erupt, but the fragments

shower inwards, towards me, and so I'm hurt as much as I am freed.

Now mottled purple, my skin is still a driving force for Genzai's

baser nature, for when the debris is cleared, and floats off in the

vacuum around me...

He's still there.

Waiting.

The explosions have affected him, reducing his organic half to a

gasping, throbbing mockery of a human face, and his... other parts show

dents, and damage... The lens extends one final time, to get a final

glimpse, and then stops. Dead. Halfway out of its socket, it jams, and

all the lights around it dim, blink, and grow dark.

But only for a while.

Mixed with the panic that I feel are images from ancient manuscripts,

of birds, with wings of flame, death's messengers rising from the ashes

of their own destruction to bring the same upon the land surrounding

them...

Such pictures pale in comparison to what I sense, to what I... I

PERCEIVE in front of me...

From what I hoped was now merely a non-sentient mass, a lump of

consciousness forms... At first, I feel nothing... I am alone, truly, for

the first time, and only MY heart, MY thoughts, MY feelings (though

there were never more than those) are present; only THEY disturb the

pattern of the moment, or create new twists in it...

Then, gradually... The ambience of Genzai, the mood surrounding his

parts, every little sensory matrix in his corpse twinkles back to life,

and while I feel it, they reach out to each other, and join. They meld

into an aggregate form, not physical this time, purely...

Spirit?

No... Not spirit... There's not enough soul in the old man for

that... What is it, then?

A luminous form rises from the shell - mostly white, but here and

there the red of meat in a butcher's stall will take the place of

shadowing... Amorphous, but trying to be something...

False starts, as growths form on the figure, then recede into the

main conglomeration. Finally, they settle into a vaguely humanoid

form... Long legs, arms, knobs that might pass for hands and feet... And

a head. A head with a nose, and a mouth, and ears...

Which now opens its eyes.

Once again, they focus on me, and I am too weak to move, too drained

by my injuries...

Both of us are free, but only he has TRULY been released; I am still

confined by the bodily casing which Genzai has discarded, and because of

my refusal to leave it, because of my need to endure, I am now easy prey

for a willing hunter.

He knows that, of course. The line across the bottom of the top

projection curves into a semi-smile, and he rushes towards me.

What can I do? I sit, I flinch, I wait... I curl into a ball, cover

myself, try to avoid what I know must come, what I can feel in his gaze,

and always could...

There is some comfort in the fact that though he might defile my

body, he himself has given proof that that is something easily cast away,

and exchanged for another thing which cannot be corrupted...

Past that point to which it is itself decayed... 

Genzai advances, turning himself into a torpedo of pink-tinted

plasma, a cylinder which spins, and flies through the dark straight

towards where I sit, crouching...

My arms, from instinct, fly before me, covering my eyes and face, and

so I miss the impact visually...

I feel it, though... Feel his substance enclosing me, pressing

against my skin, seeping through every pore and contaminating all it

touches.

Get it over with, I plead. Soundlessly, since my mouth is also

covered by his viscous presence - a viler gag I know not of. I know

what he wants - what he's wanted all this time, and since I cannot avoid

it, I...

Wait... 

The sludge slowly dissolves, leaving shivering tissue where it once

had lain... It evacuates my lungs, seemingly evaporating... And still

his stench, his vileness, permeates mon corps...

What's happening? I ask myself. I welcome my deliverance, but

cannot fathom from whence it might proceed...

Relax... 

I'm answered. From within. A strange voice, not my own, not my mental

avatar...

Who are you? 

Relax... 

I probe, sending tendrils of thought to test the ground of my

mentality... Something intercepts them, cuts them short, stops my train

of thought...

Who are... What... What was I... 

I forget what I am thinking of... What I WAS thinking of... It's

gone... Lost...

Lost? What... What is lost... 

A blank...

Then vileness, building up... Resentment, growing, becoming tangible,

taking form, and finally exploding outwards.

A burst of angry white explodes from me, clearing anything in its

path... Chunks of rock and stone, what had been... What had been...

It is of no importance... 

What had BEEN... That, too, is removed, and even the security of

floating in nothingness, even that...

I fall.

I tumble through the void, back to the earth, back to the town that I

had left, not knowing what had happened to the artificial eye, not

caring, only thinking that at last I have returned...

To what? 

[Onocorp Sable Site: Testing Arena - 2087

Darkness.

Only the blue glow of the emergency lights allowed Sakuin to make out

details in the arena.

To her sides she could distinguish a few monitors, wires, keyboards -

the usual paraphernalia of an establishment such as this one. Behind

her she could hear a pneumatic hiss as the automatic door finished

closing. In front of her...

In front of her was Sable, reclining unconscious on the Link seat.

His head was cocked at an acute angle with his trunk, and now-inoperative

electrodes trailed their wires from his skull.

She grabbed a handful of cables and examined them, determined to go

over every inch...

Best to begin at the beginning. 

Sakuin started with the connection to the main computer. A brief

pressure of her fingers on the right spots, plus whatever meagre visual

information made it past the thick dark lenses of her goggles were enough

to let her know that all was as she had expected, and feared. The leads

were melted to the point of fusion, and the plastic covering was badly

scorched.

It has to be... All the evidence pointed to it, but it was still

so... Illogical, that it should happen this way.

The energy back-flow that had originated from Sable had to be a

ki-blast... The blue tinge to his skin would have then been a build-up

of the spiritual energy... Not enough to generate an aura - after all,

his peak WAS oh-point-one, but enough for a dim glow... Dim enough to

be perceived as pigmentation? 

As she had so often in the past, she resigned herself to the facts.

It was useless to argue with truth.

Whether the jar hits the rock, or the rock the jar, she quoted

mentally, remembering Cervantes, it's always the jar that ends up the

worse for it. 

Ironic, though, that he should exhibit such abilities before

KE-A-Y-P... Unfortunately, it was of no use to their... Goals... Even

if they successfully designed a neural stimulator, the amount of pain

they'd have to put him through to bring him to the point where he could

use that would...

I'd better check the electrodes. 

Quick scans with trembling hands...

The wires seemed untouched further along the cables, so there was

hope that the implants hadn't melted. If THAT happened...

Gosunkugi took a deep breath and put a gloved hand to Sable's head.

She allowed her fingers to probe his scalp, pushing past thick, strong,

young brown hair, feeling the metallic surfaces and foam adhesive discs

of the devices she herself had placed, ever so carefully...

There was no corrosion or noticeable damage; that much was clear

after a few seconds. Still, she continued her 'examination', delighting

in the luxuriant growth, taking pleasure in feeling the soft strands

brush by her fingers... She allowed her touches to become caresses, and

was about to remove her glove before she stopped herself.

No, thought Sakuin. This way... This way madness lies. 

All that mattered was that nothing had gone wrong at the neural

level. His brain would be unharmed...

The project would continue.

With precisely-calculated movements, she set to work removing the

electrodes. For each one, she'd stretch the skin surrounding it, then

pull the cable at an exact perpendicular to the skull's curvature, taking

out the thin metal spike which had sent information to and from his

neurons.

Once all of them had been discarded, and she was satisfied that there

had been no damage to the subject, she loaded the correct medication

cartridge into her air-syringe.

Better this than the needle. He's - had enough pain for today... 

Sakuin put the tube within her teeth to free her hands while she took

Sable's arm, moved his sleeve out of the way and disinfected the target

area with an alcohol swab. Not that there was much to sanitise... He

kept himself clean, and through a quirk of his genetic engineering, his

skin was smooth, pale, and soft...

Enough of this. 

She took the 'jet and quickly administered the dose. A push, a slight

hiss, and it was done.

Only a small wait, now.

What else? 

The lighting. She liked the dark - all Gosunkugis did - but the

boy... SE-1B-Y-L was used to different, and it would ease his awakening

if she...

Where's that switch? 

She fumbled, then found the lighting control panel. Sakuin hesitated

for a moment, then turned the dimmer to half power.

The inside of Sable's eyelids pulsed a dull peach, and strange

amorphic shapes in greens and yellows danced in front of his unopened

pupils.

What... Where... 

His brain crackled, filled with static which gradually decreased in

strength. As it cleared, so did he see past into what the mental 'snow'

had been hiding...

The tests... I... The tests were the last thing he remembered.

Walls, a tank, and then... A chair...

A chair? So hard to remember... Something about bright white

lights, and metal... Pain, much pain... More than he had ever felt

before, and... It had made him strong, just as she promised, just as...

"Sable?"

Executress Sakuin.

Oh, deity... If she saw him like this, half-asleep when he was

supposed to be in his prime... Let her not see me as a failure... 

"Are you conscious, Sable?"

He opened his eyes, only to find Gosunkugi's goggles directly in

front of them.

"H-hai, Executress." Against his will, and conditioning, beads of

sweat began to form on his forehead. Sakuin's face was unreadable, as

his own should be, but that made it impossible to tell whether he had

done well, or... "What happened?"

Was that a smile peeking from the sides of her mask?

On SAKUIN? Surely not. He... He must still be imagining things...

"There is no need for concern, Sable."

"Madam?"

A frown. THIS one was certain; her eyebrows moved into a V-shaped

pattern.

"No need for concern, OR for sweating. Your physical conditioning

should allow you greater control than THAT, by now."

"H-hai. I'll stop it at once."

"Good. You have done well."

"I have?"

"Better than expected, in fact."

Sable deliberated. Was it proper to feel joy at this? It was within

Onocorp's goals for him, so he should be pleased, but... It was best to

play it safe. He resolved to choose his words carefully. With the

executress, seemingly innocuous phrases such as these could easily be a

test in themselves.

"I am pleased to hear that."

Each word was enunciated clearly and distinctly, but with no emotion

attached to it.

"As well you should be."

Tensed muscles relaxed. His reaction had been approved.

"However," she continued, "do not allow it to go to your head."

"I will not, Executress."

"There is still one final test."

Final test? 

The boy opened his mouth to give voice to the mental query, then

promptly shut it. One did not question a Gosunkugi on such subjects. If

one needed information, it would be provided in due course.

He resigned himself to nodding an acknowledgement, face firm.

"This test is different than the rest... In the others, you had to

DESTROY. In this one..." She turned away from him, paused, and bowed her

head. "You have to KILL."

"Kill?"

"It is what you are designed for, Sable." A surprisingly snappy tone,

for HER. "Fail this, and all our work will have been for naught. What

good is a soldier who cannot destroy his enemies?"

"I understand. Who are my... enemies to be?"

Sakuin paused, then answered slowly.

"Only one, and not much of a challenge for the likes of YOU... He is,

however, a self-confessed traitor, blasphemer, and... Possible saboteur."

Something else, too, she added... Mumbled... To Sable's heightened

hearing, it sounded like... 'Among other things...'

"Other things, sensei?"

Gosunkugi's head jerked up, and she spun around.

"I said nothing of 'other things', SE-1B-Y-L. You must have

misheard."

"My apologies, Executress Gosunkugi. I misheard."

Sable smirked. This was no test; rather, it would be a PLEASURE to be

able to render such a service to his creators, to rid them of this...

This vermin, that was so able to agitate his teacher.

He did not know the details, but if 'Index' Gosunkugi used such

strong phrases, they must be accurate and well-deserved.

"Who is this creature? Lead me to him!"

There was no response for a few seconds, then Sakuin lowered her

eyes.

"Chashaku," she said slowly. "Daimonji Chashaku."

Sable's head spun.

Chashaku? How?

He'd... The old man was... Harmless; an old relic, an electrician...

And... Always kind, telling stories, bringing... Food... Fresh fruit...

How could he?

"You seem confused, Sable. I take it I was understood?"

"You were, Executress," he admitted. If it was her will... If it was

ONOCORP'S will, then it must be done, but... "Are... Are you certain?

Chashaku has always been so..."

"You doubt me?" A glint from the goggles.

He couldn't doubt her.

Sakuin never lied.

The Index was never incorrect.

"No!" he exclaimed. "Of course not! It's just that... He's always

been so... Loyal to Onocorp. He's been with it so long... As long as you,

I'm told, and he's..." He had to say it, but did not know how to, except

in a whisper. "A friend."

Sakuin clenched her fists, then released them. That was a bad sign.

"Friend," she snorted. "Don't you see, Sable? THAT is why he is the

most DANGEROUS villain of all. He does not use projectiles, or beams.

Your endurance is proof against an army of those. His weapons are

EMOTIONS."

Emotions... 

"He has been using your own feelings against you; softening you,

trying to make you feel... Pity... and... Compassion..." She almost spat

out the words. "His 'friendship' is nothing but a ploy to soften you. A

clever one, true, but..." Her voice became a hiss. "Trust me when I say

that DAIMONJI is void of any TRUE feeling."

No feeling? Then... 

"He is strong?"

His teacher looked amused, and stroked her chin pensively.

"Yes... I suppose you could say that... Strong... In a very different

way from that in which YOU are strong... That only makes him all the

more dangerous, and all the more perfect as a test of your abilities.

Remember your training - today is when you need it most."

He'd almost forgotten that, in the passion he'd flown into, in this

flurry of confusion... He'd lost track of what he was here to DO.

Truly...

"Emotions make one weak."

"Excellent. And what else?"

"I... I must be a stone soldier."

"Good... And, as a soldier?"

"I must obey."

"Who?"

"You."

"For the moment, yes... And I tell you that Chash... That DAIMONJI

is a TRAITOR, and an enemy. Put your emotions aside, SE-1B-Y-L, and

eliminate him. Do not fail Onocorp. Do not fail ME."

"I will not, Executress."

[Nowhere, Notime

The downward motion's stopped, but I'm still somersaulting, whirling

in a sea of dust that blocks the sight of all that lies beyond it.

With time, the curtain settles down into a layer of sediment, and my

own movement changes into simple turning, like a top...

My eyes adjust. It takes a moment, since I've gone from darkness into

light... But... Is it light? There is a yellow glow, and figures...

Dancing... Spinning... Pointing...

Who is moving? I or they? 

I... I recognise them now... My classmates... But.. Why like this?

Why...

They are translucent. I see right through them, see their pained

expressions juxtaposed one upon the other... A boy's scream peeking from

behind a young girl's frown... An arm reaching out to anyone, to

anything, right through another student's thorax...

What has happened, and why do they not notice me?

In my movement, my rotation, I extend a hand to each in turn, trying

to touch but failing, trying to contact them, to let them know I'll

listen, and I'll help...

They do not hear! They scream in silence, move their mouths, but...

Wait. They are not quiet. When I listen closely, I can hear them.

They speak in tongues of anguish, panic and despair. I did not recognise

the sounds, at first, because I thought they were my own.

Yet, I am silent now, and they're the ones who speak, and plead,

and try to cry...

...and will not see the one who'd help them.

I can see them, but not touch them, and yet I, who can be touched, am

made invisible to them.

Again, I question what's gone on. What calamity has happened so that

I am separated from them, on a different plane?

As if to answer me, the dust piled on the moving ground stops still,

coagulates, and finally reforms into identifiable shapes.

The shapes of corpses , of the friends I knew, with blackened shirts,

and burnt-up skin, and yellow, melted yes, their limbs stuck now forever

into the unnatural positions gi'en by rigor mort' and sudden death.

Those gruesome sights immobile stand, while my own body, warm and

pulsing, young and energetic, pirouettes, ALIVE, amidst them.

Are they dead, then? And am I... 

No answer needed. The transparencies point at the sickly sea of

blackened blood and hanging skin, each once-had-been in recognition of

its former shell.

There's cries of pain, of loss, of mourning... I can't bear it.

I must do SOMETHING, HELP, or at the very least must let them know

that they are seen and heard, and someone understands their needs!

To do that, I must join them on their field of play.

I must stop moving.

So, I try.

I turn myself the other way, press all my might and concentration on

the effort, focusing, re-channelling, until...

[Onocorp Sable Site - 2087

Like all the others in the bunker, the corridor they now passed

through had walls of solid stone - roughly cut, perhaps blasted. The

facility had been made in a hurry, and there hadn't been much time or

need for aesthetic detail. Nonetheless, Sable had grown to find the

'unfinished' appearance... Comforting... At time like these, the sight

of them would help to calm him. 'Even something that is not perfect,

that is not polished', they seemed to promise, 'can fulfil its purpose -

provided it is STRONG, and does not WEAKEN'.

Only emergency lights lit their path. Every few metres, a sheet-

metal box with a few plastic panels on it would jut out, connected to all

the others via insulated cables.

The coloured lights pulsed intermittently, giving their voyage a

psychedelic appearance...

Greens would blink and alternate with reds, flickering and casting

from the shapes he knew - Sable's own, the walls', and Sakuin's -

unfamiliar shadows that would tease him, daring him to identify them

before they disappeared... For a millisecond, all'd be dark, and calm,

and peaceful...

And then, it would start again...

Much like my own mind... 

All his training seemed to be in jeopardy, fulfilment of his goal

threatened by the identity of my opponent. He knew that these...

Feelings were illusions, that they were traps, tricks of the mind, but

still there was enough... Enough compulsive force in them to raise

doubts. They played and toyed with rules he'd learned as truths, and

cast them before an unfamiliar light...

Light, that he had always comforting, was now a mockery. None of the

clinical purity he had grown to crave, none of the pure, undiluted

white... Here were baser colours of the spectrum, shining as they had not

a right to. It was a mockery of true 'enlightenment'.

A fate far worse than darkness.

What comfort was it to have a tainted glow appear, and pour its vile

imaginings upon his conscience, activating that appendix of the soul?

True, they scattered when he summoned his conditioning, but the deed was

done.

All this was so... Confusing...

Very little sound was present in the hall, and what there was

reverberated, echoed and was amplified.

Sakuin's measured breaths sighed through her mask, his own paling

next to the roar which hers became in the impromptu acoustic chamber...

Her PRESENCE, too, seemed magnified. The mood she emanated was at one

with the solidity which he perceived from the rock tunnel.

Sable's, was not.

Questions rose in his mind, and when he tried to quiet them, they

only stayed down for an instant before bubbling up again. It was Chashaku

against Sakuin.

Both were equally persistent, on their own... There was need of a

third factor to settle the dispute...

Me? 

They walked on, the crunch of their boots on the pebbled floor

heralding their perseverance.

Sable's breath quickened as he reminded myself that each footfall

brought him closer to the final test, a test which he was no longer

certain he could pass...

Regardless of what he had told Sakuin...

That settled it.

Many things he could do, but deceive HER?

Never. 

He had given my word, and would fulfil it. Not only that, but he

would do so with a TRUE heart - anything else was deception, even if no

one else knew it.

To do that, he would have to fight a preliminary battle, but of much

the same sort... He would have to eradicate some of those feelings, some

of those thoughts that had proven comforting to him, and so thoroughly

uproot them that they had no chance of ever coming back...

It was a sacrifice, but one that he must make. For EVERYTHING.

For himself. It was his goal, as a soldier and a weapon, to destroy.

And, as a tool, if he could not fulfil my purpose, he was obsolete, and

useless - without a reason to exist. Therefore, if anything threatened

this... He must be rid of it.

For his mother. She'd been forced to stain her honour... She had

been a formidable warrior, but her mistake was to allow such doubts, such

emotions, to overtake her... In fact... In fact, the very same ones that

had proven her downfall How distasteful that word is - reiraku Regret,

compassion, hesitation - were the same demons that now tormented him. If

he could not rid himself of them, he would go down the same path. Lose

his mind, and the ability to KILL, and be left incomplete, with only the

capacity for brute DESTRUCTION.

For Onocorp. Sable was their hope for a perfect project. His

half-brother had proven a disappointment... But they kept him, to fulfil

a promise. He, not that half-grown rodent, was their pride. He was

who they relied on to be a perfect prototype. He must not fail his

Creators...

And... For Sakuin. All his life, she'd been there. Teaching Sable,

instructing him, letting him know the TRUTH, and what was RIGHT. To fail

her was worse, FAR worse, than to fail himself.

He focused all my mental powers on driving out the homunculi that

littered his mind. One by one, Sable forced myself to extinguish the

brilliant flashes, snuffing them with the same weapon with which he

always armed my mental representative - the combat spatula.

He'd see the offenders as candle-flames, dancing upon wicks in their

shades of red and yellow, orange and blue... One precise and downward

swing of his instrument's cold metal surface, and it'd be gone, a thin

column of smoke the only remnant of its existence.

That, too, soon rose and dissipated, and the wick, the root which

could in future times lead to a greater conflagration...

THAT he stamped on, crushing it to dust, and letting the black powder

scatter in the wind.

In little time, his consciousness was once again a void.

Clean.

Pure.

And undiluted dark. When one could not have white, this was the next

best thing...

Sakuin stopped suddenly. They had arrived.

In front of them was the door to a primitive holding cell - plain

iron, painted creamy white.

Silently, she undid the latch, letting at first only the grating of

metal upon itself and stone greet their entry - until those sounds are

joined by a whimper, and a whine.

HE was there.

[Nowhere, Notime

A change occurred. I halted, stopped my spinning, but that was not

without its consequences... Momentum is conserved, and mine was

transferred outwards, to the morbid ring.

The mass of bodies meshed and melded into a fence-like structure. The

cadavers' arms were interlocked, their legs were twined, and e'en the

jaws of one would hinge upon the shoulder of another.

Once finished, the enclosure throbbed, and pulsed, beating as a unit,

increasing in strength and frequency until at last the whole exploded,

fountaining upward in an obscene shower of once-human parts.

Steadily the bits rose, slowed as if they moved through fluid, and

not air. The spirits stopped, and ceased all other movement to lift up

their heads, and see it all. They wailed, and pointed at the sight,

bemoaning what they once had been , what they were seeing destroyed by MY

own action.

Then, somehow, be it magic, or collective force of will, their

strength of feeling merged itself with the organic cataract.

The pieces of their pasts glowed black, a darkness that grew deeper

with each cry of loss.

Soon, before they fell, the dark had spread to all WITHIN, not just

surrounding, but a part of the rain, infusing it with dismal energy,

and fusing it all into a single, black and solid beam of pure despair.

Which then fell onto me.

[Onocorp Sable Site: Holding Cell - 2087

In front of Sable was a man.

He looked no more that mortal - no fangs, or scales, or claws to

characterise him as the monster that he was.

Just a man.

An old one, too, huddled against a corner in the manner of a mouse,

and crying. The tears flowed through the natural channels provided by

the wrinkles on his face, dripping past the long white sideburns, down an

almost-non-existent neck and continuing their passage down his chest,

where even MORE of the aged creases could be found. He was obese, but

not so large that his stretched and aged skin couldn't hang in fold over

his rolls of fat.

Daimonji looked up, showing a face bursting with fear and resentment.

"You've come for me at last," he sobbed, directing the statement not

at Sable, but at Sakuin.

She nodded.

"I hoped... I hoped that you'd remember, that you'd... Oh, what's

the use? You've grown different... You've changed..."

"I never change, Daimonji."

She is stone, as I should be... 

"Oh, but you HAVE..." the voice was a tremulous baritone, but had a

power all its own. "You're now less like the girl I knew and lo... and

liked, and more like Kyoofu..."

"Flattery will not help you now."

"WHAT flattery? That man was cruel, and did anything, ANYTHING to

reach his goals!"

"As well he did. Very effective."

"Effective..." He grunted. "I suppose it was... Effective... But

ME... What's the use in... In getting rid of ME? Are you that afraid of

the past? That vengeful? Was I that cruel, that savage that when given

the slightest opportunity, you would... Do THIS?"

He held up his hands, bound in iron manacles.

"You know what you have done."

The two looked at each other fixedly, eye-to-goggle. At length,

Chashaku spoke.

"I know what I have NOT done."

"Your inaction was voluntary. You could have complied.."

"'Complied' is a rather clinical term for it, wouldn't you say?"

Silence. "You will not forgive me?"

"Forgiveness?" She glanced at Sable. "I... You are beyond

forgiveness. TRAITOR."

The man had obviously been trying to restrain himself, probably

thinking that his only way out lay in intelligent conversation... His

shield broke, and the tears once more gushed forth.

"Sak-chan," he pleaded, trying to embrace the Executress, "don't..."

A slap crossed his left cheek, drawing blood.

"Don't EVER call me that, Daimonji."

"You were..." He rubbed his cheek and breathed with difficulty. The

rasping of his lungs, and the distortion caused by the phlegm in his aged

throat added to the effect of his sob-filled words. "You were not ALWAYS

so reluctant to have me say that name..."

"Things change."

"You do not, or so you said."

Sable had been still. He knew better than to interfere, and he had

his own internal battles to fight.

Which the present situation only intensified.

Sakuin, showing emotion - openly! Chashaku, calling her 'Sak-chan'...

The dust he'd thought long gone began to gather, threatening to

coalesce, and form anew the wicks of doubt.

Clear your mind... 

The particles swirled, a mental whirlwind...

Clear your... 

"Now, Sable." A command.

He began to walk, then hesitated.

"Chashaku, I'm..."

Daimonji glanced at him, then turned his head away.

"Do what you... What SAKUIN thinks is right," he muttered.

"Finish him, and we'll be done."

Sable did not know the electrician's crime, and relied only on the

Gosunkugi's assertions...

Could he perform an execution, his FIRST, on such a foundation?

The boy thought, then straightened.

"Executress, I..."

[Nowhere, Notime

With a deafening roar, the projectile cataracts onto my frame... The

depression bathes me, falling in coils, slipping around me, and finally

finding a foothold in my pores.

From there, it infiltrates my body, racing through the circulatory

system; to the heart, the lungs, my glands...

I feel it.

Their emotions, their sadness, burns throughout my whole. Though it

come from outside, it's internalised, processed into a crisp, sharp fire

that leaps outwards.

Racing through my veins, the assimilated pain pours out in roiling

streams that join into waves at the surface.

Where they touch my clothes, the material is dissolved. It turns into

grey dust which sprinkles to the floor.

This dust, this remnant of the last barrier that I had used to hide

myself, does not seem to trouble the spirits, or their eyes.

In fact, the powder allows them to see me, for the first time. It

wafts past them, and they blink, and turn, and jab their fingers at me,

noticing a newcomer amidst them.

At last I have descended to their plane; I've lost myself among the

dead...

Not quite. 

I see the fear. I am not natural, not of THEIR nature.

But, no matter how strange my liveliness may be to them, or my

solidity, I am relieved to see they recognise me as a friend.

Through eyes half-closed and watery, and swollen red with pain, I

look up at them.

Yes, up.

No longer am I in their sky, above their ground, the graceful

spinning angel.

I am crouched naked on the ground, bathed in a grimy, slimy, oily,

filthy sweat and hurting like I didn't know I could before.

They see; they CARE, they KNOW me for what lies within.

My body's bare, but that's not what their gaze admits.

They see inside and find what makes me separate from all the other

masses of protein on the Earth.

They also see that I am wounded.

And they try to help.

They cannot lay aside their own concerns; they've lost too much for

that, but they make room in their collective consciousness for a smidgen

of charity...

I see it in their eyes, as a glimmer, a faint glint as they continue

spinning around me...

A sudden pain. Sharp, and new... My lower abdomen...

My stomach? I...

[Onocorp Sable Site: Holding Cell - 2087

Sable's stomach lurched, the lower folds of his intestine flipping

over themselves, churning and causing ripples to rise through his

oesophagus up to his throat.

This, he thought, is what it must feel like to be sick. He'd

never known such a sensation... He had lived in a sterile world, always,

free from bacteria, and pre-supplied with all the antibodies he would

need to fight any which he was ever likely to encounter.

As his heart beat against his chest, it seemed to... To spread

somewhat, and send chills from his sternum, outward along his ribs.

"You will what, Sable?" asked Sakuin.

"I..."

I MUST. 

The boy took a step forward.

When he heard the crunch of a boot on gravel, Chashaku turned to face

him. His face had the look of a deer standing before an armed hunter.

Sable swallowed and wet his lips. His mouth was dry, but his brow

was covered in sweat.

He saw Sakuin from the corner of his eye. She trembled. Rage? Fear?

Either one would be just as remarkable in the normally unshakeable

Executress.

She closed and opened her fists (in frustration, perhaps), keeping

her eyes focused on Sable.

When she saw his resolution about to fail, the Gosunkugi reached into

a pouch hidden beneath her outer garb and removed a single item, holding

it aloft so all could see.

It was a spatula.

A single, metal, throwing-spatula.

My mother's... 

All other thoughts were banished from his consciousness by virtue of

the cooking implement. They were instead replaced by an overwhelming

sense of SHAME, to be removed only by completion of his task.

Kuonji Ukyou'd gone mad because she had allowed herself to be WEAK.

He would not make the same mistake.

He would not fail this test.

Sakuin placed the spatula in his waiting hand, and he in turn slipped

it in between his belt and shirt. It had served its purpose; it had

strengthened his resolution. He would not allow it to do more - the boy

refused to rely on an instrument to do HIS work. That was the way of a

coward.

Besides which, Sable HIMSELF was a tool, or so he had been taught...

And a weapon.

The time had come to prove it.

He took Chashaku's chin with his left hand, being careful to finger

the throat so that he could not use his vocal chords.

Sakuin noticed this, and nodded her approval. Last words from the

condemned would only be an inconvenient distraction.

Daimonji struggled, but in vain. SE-1B-Y-L's strength was more than

enough to both lift him off the ground (heavy though he was) and absorb

the impact of his flailing arms.

Now... 

Sable closed his eyes and launched a punch with his right fist.

There was no scream to hear.

[Nowhere, Notime

A scream bursts from my deepest regions, coming unbidden and refusing

to leave, once out, echoing instead to postpone its dissipation..

The sound stops them at last, and they stand in a circle, jaws agape.

"Lost!" they moan collectively.

Lost? 

A tearing... A gashing in my lower body. There's strains, and snaps

of nothing material, of nothing concrete, but when they're broken, I

feel...

I feel lighter, but laden; like a diver undersea, whose density is

less than that of the water which bears down upon her.

[Onocorp Sable Site: Holding Cell - 2087

His hand was covered in pulpy mashes of red, green and yellow - wet,

slimy excrescences that dripped down his sleeve. They were the same

colours as the lights that had troubled him earlier, but they did not

shine... Far from it - they were dull in colour, though one or another

surface might reflect a bit of light.

It was hard, thought Sable, to believe that moments ago, these...

Pieces?

Fragments?

No... They were not even that... It was hard to believe that these..

BLOBS had been part of a human...

Of a man that he had known.

Yet, the proof stood undeniable before him. He could not fight the

evidence of his senses...

Apart from FEELING the warm ooze upon his skin, and SEEING the

bloodstains black on his blue shirt, he also...

He could SMELL it. Death, or has-been-life - a musty, salty smell

that went through his nostrils down to his mouth, where it became a

steamy taste... The sensations conjured images of a meat-market by the

seaside, during a hot summer's day...

He also HEARD it.

If only to reassure himself, he had reached down to the body and

pulled up a handful of the remnants, squishing them the mass between his

fingers. As it trickled through them, it emitted a contented gurgle.

A baby-like sound, coming from what had been the head of an old

man...

There was humour in that, but somehow-

He didn't feel like laughing.

This had been Chashaku, and now was not.

Simple.

He had caused the change himself.

With help... 

Sakuin had spent her time staring at the corpse, never moving her

eyes from the pulp that lay above the neck; the soup that now replaced

the head. Apart from that, the anatomy had been left intact.

She moved shards of cranial bone around with her foot.

The fragments were many, and small. Daimonji's frail, arthritic

skeleton had easily cracked, splintering and sending gruesome shrapnel to

all parts of the cell.

He was dead.

The traitor had been killed.

His duty was fulfilled.

Gosunkugi smoothed her front, then looked at him.

He thought he could see traces of tears on the underside of her

goggles...

"Executress?" he asked.

"You have passed, Executioner Sable."

[Nowhere, Notime

Something's left. What, I do not know precisely, but it was the final

link that held me to the Lens's world of iron, glass and newness.

Now I am of THEM. The pain which pounds and beats through all of me

only reminds me of that.

It starts from the centre, then pulses towards my heart, which

shivers, continues painfully down through my thighs to my legs, then

again up to my brain, where it hits with the force of a dozen hammers.

This is my lot, now, the badge of the world to which I've drawn

myself. The world of these shades whom I sought to help, of memory, the

past, regret, and loss of opportunity to do that which fate cut off...

Now, THEY try to save ME, but find themselves powerless to do a

thing.

A few reach towards and through me... I feel them as a breeze, a

slight refreshing touch, but nothing more. Once it's gone, in its absence

the fire seems stronger than before...

Like Dickens' ghosts they moan and wail at their own inability to DO,

and I stay crying, for myself and them.

They turn away...

My friends...

One by one, each form stops movement, nods, and pivots to face

outward.

When all the circle's done, they walk away.

But not too far.

The two halves form themselves into a set of rows that marches

forward, settling finally into...

A corridor? 

A hallway built of souls, a passage to... What end?

I look, to see if one of them will tell me what the meaning of this

is.

None does.

They just smile, and point toward the end of their passage.

There must be something there, I reason. They must have found

SOMETHING to help... Me...

And once I'm healed, I can help THEM. 

Bearing the pain as best I can, I stand.

My steps are slow, but they come in their time.

I trudge past dozens of my former classmates, 'til there are no more

to pass, and see what they have led me to.

[Onocorp Sable Site - 2087

"Where are we headed?" Sable asked, as he walked down yet another

stone corridor with Sakuin.

"Out."

"Executress?"

"To my room, then out. I have... some 'things' to collect... You have

passed; we have no further need of the testing centre, and considering

the current situation, it is best if we leave quickly."

"And the body?"

They proceeded for a few steps in silence.

"It will be destroyed when the charges detonate tomorrow afternoon.,"

pronounced the Gosunkugi. "Destroyed, or buried in rubble. We need not

concern ourselves with... Sanitation."

A funeral was out of the question, naturally. One did not render

such honours to traitors.

"Understood."

At length, they arrived before a white door set into the granite,

with only a brass name-plate reading 'Gosunkugi Sakuin' to distinguish it

from all the others in the bunker. The executress pressed her palm

against the scanner beside it and hastily stepped through the opening

doorway, beckoning Sable to follow.

The inside of her room was as expected.

The walls were bare of anything, including paint. Only the natural

colour of the rock showed. There was no window; only a simple bed, a

small desk, a computer and some climate control equipment, and...

Two closets.

One was standard issue whitewashed plywood.

The other was an advanced container. It was made mostly of plastic,

with metal supports, and had a hermetic sealing around the edges of the

door. For a lock, it had a complicated-looking mechanical device bulging

from its front, to which was attached a thumbprint scanner.

Sable raised a questioning eyebrow.

[Nowhere, Notime

A glass case in front of me reflects my haggard face. My black hair

is matted down with oil, and my skin is a pale red, seemingly burnt from

my exertions.

"This?" I ask. "Is THIS what I must use?"

The case's front reflects only myself. What it hides, I cannot guess.

Heads move up and down, giving the impression of a grisly field of

some strange grain, waving in the wind while it waits to be harvested.

I take it that's a yes. 

[Onocorp Sable Site: Sakuin's Room - 2087

Sakuin merely pointed at the scanner.

"Only you can open it," she said.

Then... It must have been prepared... 

Something had been kept for him... And it had also been kept FROM

him... Why?

"What is it, executress?"

The goggles glinted.

"Think of it... As a graduation present."

Not wishing to delay, Sable placed his thumb against the smooth green

glow of the lock panel.

[Nowhere, Notime

The crystal shatters when I punch it. Shards fly out, some cutting me

in places, drawing blood. The others travel through the spirits. From

their grey forms, they take no red. Only my own organic, solid flesh is

damaged.

I scarcely feel the pinpricks. The other wounds have made me numb.

Now that its shield is gone... What's inside?

A suit... 

[Onocorp Sable Site: Sakuin's Room - 2087

An outfit, mounted on a wire-frame mannequin.

First to be noticed was the blue boy's uniform, much like his own,

though several sizes too large... It was well-kept for, and ironed, and

smelled (like all the inside of the container) of preservative gases and

disinfectants...

Across the chest, from left to right, a leather bandolier housed

metal throwing spatulas in narrow cartridges...

Sable fingered the one that now pressed against his thigh. He was

speechless, too awed to vocalise his thoughts as his mind went over the

information which his eyes conveyed.

He'd seen this before; he'd dreamt of it, and if it was that which he

hoped, there should be...

There... In the background... The closet and the room were only dimly

lit, but now his eyes were fully adjusted to the half-light, and he found

what he was looking for.

Behind it all, a monumental combat spatula peeked out, with yellowing

linen wrapped around the handle just below its ring-shaped pommel...

My mother's... 

[Nowhere, Notime

A transparent plastic radiation suit.

Radiation? But... 

The spirits hurry me on, waving their arms wildly.

I touch a sleeve on the thing. My hand is relieved. The pain speeds

away, its natural flame banished by the cold, inorganic substance.

I tell myself that it's not right, that THIS is of the world of

Genzai, and his Lens! The pain HURTS, but it's from THEIR world. HERE.

The PAST.

Too much. I cannot bear it.

I must choose.

I can stay, or leave, but not both...

And, if I stay, the torment will become to great, and I'll succumb.

If I remain, it won't be to help them, but as one of their own.

I must. 

I snatch the sterile package reluctantly, unfold it and slip it over

my naked frame.

[Onocorp Sable Site: Sakuin's Room - 2087

The bandolier feels heavy as I slip it over my neck and onto my cloth

shirt. It carries with it far more than the weight of a few cooking

utensils...

It brings with it new responsibilities, new promises... I'd always

known it was my fate to cleanse the Kuonji name, to bring it into the

forefront as a model for all warriors... And these garments are the

symbol of that vowed commitment.

The weighty combat spatula is next to be picked up - I leave the

clothes themselves to be folded, and taken on our exit... I've yet to

grow into them, after all.

My hands - my killing hands - run along the cold, hard, polished

surface... The feeli... The SENSATION brings me closer to my mother,

closer to Sakuin, and closer to the stone soldier which I must always

strive to be...

[Nowhere, Notime

Little more than a plastic bag, it is. Folds and wrinkles, all

transparent...

What use is it as a covering? It hides nothing. All it does is block

out my friends, making their cries unhearable, and blunting the edge of

their sorrow.

Also, it brings me to the notice of...

He's found me. 

I can feel HIM on me once again, know that HE is watching me, out of

that metal eye...

Still invisible... 

No sight of it... 

Watching?

No. 

Perhaps.. Perhaps not yet...

I'm safe so long as I am PHYSICALLY within this world.

I can hide! 

You cannot. 

The walls crumble. What I'd thought to be untainted black, once

outside light's let in is shown to be my school.

Fissures appear, revealing chalkboards, desks, and plastic tile, all

scorched, all burned... All bathed in a filthy, grimy light of bluish

white.

His favourite light.

The sterile light.

He's coming. I must run. But... I can't leave THEM here!

Where? 

From you. 

More holes appear, letting in more of the rays.

As a beam hits one of the shades, it disappears. No puff of smoke,

no ash, no farewell gesture, just a simple 'there, not-there'.

Wherever I look, another crack grows... I try to stop them, move, and

attempt to shelter them with my arms, but with no effect... The spirits

look at me, and beyond, then quake, and in a second, they... Are gone...

This happens many times, to everyone and every thing...

And THEN, I realise...

It's me...

I am Medusa - A Medusa in reverse... Those things I look at, what I

try to see, loses what solidity it has, and simply - vanishes...

What have I done?

What have I become?

You have become ME. 

Is... Is Genzai's taint so strong that I can't...

I raise my hands in front of me, these hands that only killed, that

only could eliminate when they had tried to protect, and heal, and

save...

Then wonder whether I myself am proof against my curse...

[Onocorp HQ: Tokyo - 2087

"Report, Kootaku?"

The radiation must still be high, thought Ono, as he squinted at

the image on the view-screen. Interference caused by the alpha particles

made it difficult to make out anything but a blurry outline of the

Doctor's radiation suit. Thankfully, the sound transmission seemed

unhampered save for a slight crackle.

"The drones... found life... Shirotori"

That was interesting... He looked back at Hokoriko, who shrugged in

her seat. After eight hours, everyone SHOULD be dead.

If there were many people still living and available as witnesses, it

might poke holes in their cover story... Perhaps it'd be better to leave

them there...

"How many, Keko?"

The figure on-screen moved, but only a crackle answered him.

"Could you repeat that?"

"One."

One? That wasn't too bad... All the easier to...

Better check who it was, lest he regret it afterwards.

"Identified?"

"Hai."

A pause.

"Well?"

"Schoolgirl, late teens. Jansen Childra."

A JANSEN?!?!? Hokoriko started as she heard the name, and stood

behind him to watch the rest of the conversation.

"Send... Bring her to Tokyo, AT ONCE."

"Sire, there's little chance she'll survive... Even with the best

insurance..."

"We'll treat her at Sasuke Memorial OURSELVES, with Onocorp funds."

"Sire?"

Hokoriko put her hand on his shoulder.

"We... Can't risk the life of a Jansen. That's all."

"As you wish, Sire." The fuzzy image bowed once before the screen

went dark.

"It's..." The director took his wife's hands in his own, holding them

as he would lifesavers. "One girl... Not a problem, is it?"

"Tanaro?"

He shut his eyes and clenched his teeth.

"Blast it! If okaasama finds out there was a JANSEN at the site..."

"She'll understand... You were doing it for the project..."

"For the SABLE program, NOT Project R. She's been against it from

the start... Hokoriko..." She stroked his hair as he bit his lower lip

and shook his head. "By all rights, MY name should be Jansen, but then

otoo... Then LAMORAK went on that expedition... She remarried, to that

Shinnosuke, but she never got over him... Her first husband... What if

she dies? The Childra girl? What if..."

"She won't." A cold, female voice from elsewhere in the room. "I'll

take care of her myself." As Tanaro looked closer, a familiar figure

stepped into the light from the corner in which she had been concealed.

"Sakuin." The word left a bitter taste in his mouth. He shouldn't be

surprised, really... The whole Gosunkugi line had an uncanny knack for

hiding in shadow. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough. You shouldn't worry about Jansen. With our cloning

therapies, there should be nothing to worry about except some minor

trauma... That is... Assuming that she's out of Shirotori within the

hour..."

"She will be."

"And... Assuming that I'll be given unlimited access to all of

Onocorp's facilities."

"Anything... Just... Make sure she's better, before ok... Before

Belladonna finds out."

"Of course."

Hokoriko hadn't let go of her husband's hand, and with each passing

second, her grip was tightening. Tanaro was glad he couldn't see her

face. The visage of an angry Musk was not one easily forgotten.

"You dare," she hissed, "come HERE, unbidden, after what..."

The executress held up a plastic card.

"I have a key, and the scanners are programmed to accept my voice,

hand and retinal prints."

The Musk woman glared at the Director.

He shrugged.

"I... Well... She comes here so often, and..." It was useless to try

to explain.

"We'll talk about this LATER, Tanaro. For now..." She turned to

Sakuin, and flipped her dagger out of its sheath. "GO, before I forget

I'm no longer on Togenkyo."

"I see you two have a lot to settle, so I'll let you be."

Just like her, to make it seem like leaving had been HER idea.

Before she left...

"What about Sable?"

"He passed." Silence. "SE-1B-Y-L is in his quarters. I thought it

best not to bring him.." Tanaro nodded his approval, and she continued.

"I have to visit my brother and take care of his girl-child for the

day... I'll check in on your 'Childra' while I do so... Be sure to have

her at SMH by nine at the latest."

That said, she turned and left.

[Sasuke Memorial Hospital - 2087

Sakuin nodded as the doctor continued his explanation. So far, the

news was good.

First of all, they'd run a bio-search on her, which had turned out

better than they could have hoped for. No close relatives - not in Japan,

at least... Except for Tanaro, and he won't admit it. She was being

financed by a distant cousin somewhere in Africa...

That made a lot of things much easier.

Her physical condition was also promising.

The girl would be barren - that much was to be expected, but there

was no significant corruption of nerve cells, and though the damage to

the muscle tissue was extensive, thanks to Director Ono's 'generous'

offer...

"I take it Jansen has samples in the tissue bank?" she asked.

"Hai, Gosunkugi-san."

Good. It shouldn't be a problem to heal that via cloning therapy.

Now, the most important question...

"How about her brain?"

"Minimal damage. One percent, at the most, and that is partial - no

total neural destruction whatsoever."

Even better news... 'The brain cannot be cloned,' that was the first

rule every geneticist learned. So long THAT was fine...

"I am... Pleased to hear that, isha."

"Her consciousness is unstable, however. She drifts in and out, and

our nurses report that even when awake..."

Sakuin started.

"Nurses? You were told to keep the patient SECRET!"

"I assure you, all our staff can be relied on to..."

"How many have seen her?"

"Apart from the doctors you've selected? Two."

"Keep it at that. For as long as treatment continues, keep a watch

on those nurses, and threaten them with severance if they say a WORD

about their patient. Remove all other duties from them, if need be."

"She's only a schoolgirl, Gosunkugi-san..."

"You heard what I said. Must I call the Director of Onocorp and have

HIM confirm my instructions?" She reached for her portaphone and watched

with satisfaction as he paled.

"That.. That won't be necessary... We'll... Keep it under wraps."

"One more thing..."

"Yes?"

"When the girl awakens... Do not let her know who is paying her

medical fees."

"What SHALL we tell her, then?"

That was a good question... In this case, silence was almost as bad

as the truth...

Lamorak HAD left a large amount of money behind for charitable

purposes... Most of it was being diverted to Onocorp, so it shouldn't be

too much trouble to set something up...

"Tell her that a... A 'Jansen Trust' is financing her recovery.

They've... Recently found out of her existence, and will pay for her

basic expenses from now on."

There. That should satisfy Belladonna's protectiveness of members of

that family, and eliminate many possible sources of inquiry. Her first

husband had been quite the eccentric, after all. It was entirely

plausible that he'd have set up a trust fund for destitute relatives...

Deity knows KUNOU did... That last was the butt of every financial

joke. A multi-billion-Kunou fund, earning enough interest each day to

finance a small army, which could be touched by NO ONE, simply because

there were no more Kunous to claim it...

The Doctor raised an eyebrow.

"Trust me," she assured him. "It exists."

Or it WILL, once I get to the lawyers. It shouldn't be TOO hard to

fabricate a past for it...

"Will that be all... Executress?"

"You may go. Mind my instructions this time."

"Of course." With that, he bowed and went on his rounds.

Sakuin seldom ad-libbed, but in this case, her spur-of-the-moment

thought had provided the perfect solution to her problems. Simple, as

well, and relatively cheap. With Lamorak's fortune earning interest

daily, one woman's costs of living would be nothing but a drop from the

bucket.

For some reason, it also... Eased her conscience, somewhat.

Not that she was guilty of anything, of course...

Now, to find those lawyers...

"Skeride, it's time to go."

Nothing. Sakuin looked around her, without success. She must have

left while I was talking... Truly a Gosunkugi. She hadn't even

noticed...

Not a problem. With that squirrel of hers on her shoulder, she

shouldn't prove TOO difficult to find.

"Anikaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Skeride ran after her pet squirrel, darting

past surprised orderlies, jumping over bedpans and crawling under cots.

It seemed she ended up doing this EVERY time she took her out...

Honestly, that animal...

The dark-brown squirrel snuck into one of the patient rooms.

Checking to make sure no one saw her, Skeride followed through the

door marked 'Private'.

Then stopped.

The room held a single patient, on a bed...

Or, rather...

A single BODY.

As she looked at it, the face on it seemed to change, to morph in

between that of an older girl, with short black hair, and an old man with

a mechanical eye...

The young Gosunkugi stood sill, trying to decide what to do.

Something... Something very BAD here... Something wasn't right...

No kidding, Skeride, she chided herself. Two people in one body

isn't your healthy, normal everyday occurrence... 

She'd seen some... Some things that came close to this, with the

Collective, but...

This was evil.

Thankfully, whatever-it-was was unconscious. She could just grab

Anika, and leave.

Or so she thought.

Before she could do anything, the squirrel climbed up the bedpost and

settled itself on the patient's chest.

Oh, deity... 

Auntie Sakuin would be missing her soon, and if she found her in a

private room she shouldn't be in, it'd be trouble. It'd be even WORSE

for Anika if the animal were found there alone... Maybe even lethal...

Skeride bit her lip, tried to ignore the nausea that she'd begun to

feel, and started towards the cot... Chances were, after all, that this

wasn't REAL... Didn't she always see things other people didn't?

Just my mind acting up again... Nothing but that... 

She took a few stealthy steps, making them quiet as only a Gosunkugi

could, and launched her hand at the squirrel.

The body intercepted it.

It raised its right forearm mechanically and gripped her wrist. She

pulled, and tugged, but it wouldn't let her go...

The face turned to her. It was the old man, burrowing into the girl

with that eye...

"What have we HERE?" it asked. Tinny, the voice was, and distant - as

if from a ventriloquist, or if it were speaking with a borrowed tongue.

Is it? With two faces in one shell... Maybe... Maybe one of them

did not belong?

Then, it hit her... It'd taken longer, this time, but she felt it.

Whenever she came in contact with someone, whenever she touched them,

she'd see a... A kind of halo surrounding them, and she could sometimes

tell things from it... Usually, it was instantaneous... But this one...

Had taken a while, and she thought she saw why...

It wasn't stable, but flickered in between a canary yellow tinged

with red streaks, and an awful, putrid aura, made of slimy greens and the

purples, browns and yellows of decomposition...

The first was... Friendly, comforting, and feminine... Warm, but

shaken and confused... The second was corrupt; full of perversion like

she'd never felt before... And male.

Definitely... This one did not belong.

It had taken over the other, and she had better rid herself of its

grip before it did the same to HER.

"Let me go!" she shouted.

"Not quite yet... Oh... So young, you are..." The left hand tried to

brush her hair. She batted it away. "Feisty, too... Yes, I think I

like you..."

With a quick manoeuvre, he... or she... or whatever it was... managed

to take both her wrists in one hand, and began to use the other to stroke

her hair, feel her face... And more...

Panic built up in Skeride, filling her like fire would a haystack. It

grew inside of her as the monster continued its 'inspection', building

up, until she finally found a way to let it out, a way she'd learned, but

never thought she'd use this way...

A lilac glow built up around her, pulsing along with her heart.

The cyborg's face seemed not to notice, focusing instead on... other

things...

So much the better. 

The aura built itself into a casing of spiritual energy, which she

re-focused, sending all of it to the space in between her cupped hands,

and turning it into a bubble, which soon detached...

Before her, the man blinked, then opened his mouth in soundless

horror as he realised what was to come.

Skeride grinned, now, as she directed the sphere over the patient's

body, expanding it to fit the whole, then lowering it, and compacting

it...

The unwelcome spirit tried to scream, but his shouts could not pierce

the purple barrier.

The bubble grew smaller, tinier, going PAST the skin, filtering out

that morbid, evil essence, and separating it from that which she gathered

to be the rightful occupant of the body...

Resistance grew, but faded quickly as she forced herself to

concentrate, and keep up her object's strength...

Already, the man's face ceased to show itself... The arms had

relaxed, and all that visually lay before her was an unconscious young

woman in a hospital gown with a panic-frozen squirrel on her chest.

Almost there... 

Sweat trickled down her brow as her bubble continued to shrink,

continued the elimination... At last, right beneath the physical heart

of the patient, it reached a subatomic size, and finally...

[Childra's bedroom, University of Tokyo: 2093

...Disappeared.

Childra woke up with a start, and was mildly surprised (once her eyes

cleared) to find herself back in her university room, back with...

"Something wrong, Childra?"

Zannen. Her companion now stretched out groggily, roused from her

slumber, and reached out to ruffle Jansen's hair.

"N... No... Just... Just a dream..." She shook her head. "It's...

Gone now..."

"Glad to hear it. It'd be awful to spoil a lovely evening like the

one we had with a NIGHTMARE..." She smiled, and Childra giggled.

They'd... Had fun, yes...

And... All she had dreamt; all those things... were in the past. This

was 2093, and she was safe, in her room... No Genzai here - Skeride had

sent him deity-knows-where... And... No Shirotori, either... Only

Zannen's warm olive skin against her own milky-white one, only the sheets

above them both, only her head on Childra's shoulder...

Jansen took the woman's head in her hands, looking into her face.

"You have such lovely green eyes..."

"No prettier than your brown ones," answered the Hibiki, returning

the compliment with a caress.

Jansen let herself melt into Zannen's embrace, glad for its feel of

solidity...

No more spirits to torment her, no more ghosts, no more...

It's past six, Childra.

She turned her head to see Akane, hands over eyes, and glowing pink.

I... I'm sorry... I didn't know...

She mouthed an 'It's OK', and a smile.

You told me to get you up by six for your 'jump, and... Still

covering her eyes with her right hand, she used her other to point at a

clock.

Six-thirty AM.

Deity... I'd better run... 

"Zannen..."

"Hmm?"

Childra disengaged herself.

"It's... Nearly time for the 'jump... I have to go."

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that." The Hibiki's face

assumed a serious expression. "Being head of the EH department DOES have

its privileges... If you don't WANT to go, I could always find..."

"An hour before the event? Don't be silly... What's wrong, lass?

Getting cold feet?"

Another grin.

"After last night, Chi-chan, I doubt I'll be having cold ANYTHING for

a while..." Childra smiled, dreamily, then burst into a giggle as she

saw her ghost-friend's aura go a few shades deeper into the red end of

the spectrum. "I know it sounds silly... But... It's just not safe, and

I'm WORRIED about you..."

"Twenty minutes in Victorian England? What could be safer? At the

very worst, I'll be 'accosted'..."

Uh-Oh... She'd phrased that as a joke, but she'd forgotten... A

little SOMETHING about her superior... Here it comes... 

Zannen shuddered.

"THERE'S a fate worse than death... I wouldn't put it past them,

either... For those lecherous MEN, a quarter of an hour's all they need

to... To... Argh! I don't know how most women STAND them..."

Childra nodded a nervous agreement and looked at Akane out of the

corner of her eye. SHE, for once, was having a ball.

You mean she doesn't KNOW? Jansen shook her head slightly. All

those nights you spend with... And she doesn't... And she thinks...

Childra, how could you?!?

She expected a ki-mallet to flatten her for insensitivity any moment

now, but it never came. Instead, the ghost burst into laughter.

She couldn't decide which was worse...

She's have to tell Zannen SOMEDAY, but... That... That was in the

future.

Hopefully, the FAR future. 

The Hibiki sighed.

"You're right... I'm being silly... It's not like you're my nephew,

or anything, and are in danger of getting lost if I take my eye off you

for a second..." She slapped her on the side. "Go get dressed." A pause,

then a wink. "I'll help with the bustle."

Childra slipped out of the bed.

"No need,' she replied. "They're keeping the garb for me at EH."

Jansen dropped the bed-sheet that had been covering her and searched the

ground for the clothing they'd scattered there the night before. "I'll

just go in my work outfit... Are these yours, or mine?" She held up a

pair of pink lace panties, eliciting a stronger glow from Akane.

"Yours, I think..."

"Right..." The ghost turned to leave, but she motioned her not to.

'You're too uptight', she whispered. 'It'll do you good to stay.'

But..

'Good. You're starting to get the picture.'

Once found, she put on her undergarments, along with the other

essential items: khaki trousers, white socks, hiking boots and a lovely

T-shirt reading 'Libens, Volens, Potens'... Then there was...

She looked over her 'hardware', deciding what to take. The bo and

machete were tempting, and she reached for them.

"No weapons, Chi-chan," the head of her department reminded her.

Childra nodded, and reluctantly drew back her hand.

Almost automatically, she slipped on her worn leather bandolier,

checking its cartridges to make sure all her 'supplies' were there. It

was doubtful they'd let her take them, but after years of habit it would

take more mental effort NOT to do it than to perform the scan. Her

university jacket went over that, and she was done at last. Childra

always felt... Undressed until she had those two items on.

Not that that's a BAD feeling... 

"So..." she stood before her mirror, brushing her hair. "How do I

look?"

"Lovely, as always."

You look fine, Childra.

She set the brush down.

"Then I... I guess it's time to go..."

"Yes..." Zannen rose from the bed, wearing the bed-sheet like a

toga. "But before you go..."

She walked to Childra and wrapped her arms around the historian's

neck, the pressure between the two women being the only thing keeping the

cover from dropping to the floor.

As they broke into what promised to be a long and tender kiss, Akane

shook her head, sighed, and stepped out through the wall into the main

corridor.

She was right. Minutes passed before they disengaged, and Childra

walked out the door, leaving her superior clutching a blanket to her

bosom, and looking at an empty doorway with tear-filled eyes...

END VISION

EPILOGUE:

From 'The Strand Magazine - Late 19th/Early 20th century' [In the

Japanese National Library, MS # GB-E-10642. Partial page; damaged.

Missing top and bottom.

"Since the death of my dear friend Sherlock Holmes, the

responsibility has fallen upon me several times to clear his name in

certain matters which were in his lifetime left undiscussed for the sake

of national security, or of giving him credit in those cases which were

thought best kept out of the public eye at the time. However, time heals

all wounds, and the perpetrators and victims of the crimes portrayed are

long since dead or murdered, and so I once more try my hand at the

chronicler's task, and reach into that famous safe-box at our bank near

Covent Garden, pulling out the notes of one such case. The time has

come, dear readers, when I may safely reveal the strange and wonderful

circumstances surrounding the Adventure of the Giant Rat of Sumatra..."


	20. The WandererBetrayal

THE WANDERER

For Skerides real and imagined

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Sors immanis et inanis ...

obumbrata et velata

michi quoque niteris;

nunc per ludum dorsum nudum

fero tui sceleris"

-From the 'Carmina Burana'

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A Tokyo Graveyard Autumn, 2096

Cobwebs and trapped spiders brush through me as I levitate through stone,

changing the penitential black that is my day for the sombre tones of mortal

night. For I am Dead, and it is from this not-slumber that I rouse myself,

rising through layers of soil and roots to trade the humid stagnant air found

underground for the moonlit night, and the biting autumn wind...

At least, I THINK it's biting... It moves the leaves so crisply, and the

sound it makes when howling through the trees suggests it, but...

It's all a guess. I can't feel it anymore.

I can't feel ANYTHING... Not with my skin, at least. I suppose it's

fitting. My cadaver rots within a cold stone coffin, decomposition and

bacteria providing the only warmth... Meanwhile, my personality is housed in

an immaterial body that feels nothing physical, but gains strength with

emotions... A proper punishment for the heartless way in which I... In

which...

In which I forfeited corporeal existence.

No longer do I have a heart to beat, or blood for it to pump. Instead, I

have my soul, and guilt, and regret... When alive, I sensed with cells, and

did not use my heart to feel... Now the situation is reversed.

Touch is gone, but SIGHT remains. Perhaps, even enhanced?

Yes, I can see. I see the pain I've caused, when I visit the university

housing projects and look in on my husband and child... Not during the day...

I... I couldn't bear to view them then, in the sunlight... It's bad enough to

see their faces as I do, by the moon's illumination. They have tear-marks on

their cheeks, and their pillows are always wet...

Because of me.

Oh, deity... 

Did I think that? Old reflexes die hard. Heaven will not help me now.

I'd better go, and get it over with. It's like a drug, you see. I try to

isolate myself from the world which I betrayed; try to hide within my mortal

remnants during the living day, perhaps in an unvocalised half-hope that I'll

join them in decomposition...

It's fear that draws me nightly out. I'm addicted to life - theirs, and

whatever remains of mine. I must stay, to check on my family, to help in what

small ways I can... I can't do MUCH, but little things...

Yakume never WAS good at housekeeping. I sweep the dust from the house,

put the clean pots away...

Little things.

My child - my girl, poor thing, attributes it to sprites.

She's right, in a way...

But, I procrastinate. I must go now; the sunset was two hours ago. Where

was it, again?

The moon shows me the path. Its beams shine hard upon the crypts and

stones and obelisks, casting long straight shadows. Tonight, they all point

towards the university.

I look up, and utter a quiet thanks to Diana. When you are dead, any

favour is welcome, even from a lump of rock far in the sky.

Out of mortal reflex, I inhale, then take a few steps.

A voice stops me.

"You don't belong there."

Cold, sepulchral, more than that of any ghost should be. It echoes,

reverberating off the monuments and dying out so gradually, so naturally that

when it's gone, I wonder whether it was in my mind.

I shake my head, letting the wind go through it, and start my pace anew.

"I won't warn you again."

Unmistakable, this time. Female, yes, but not mine... Young (as if that

meant anything in the Necropolis), cold and... Determined.

But who?

I turn nervously, seeking a source, but all I find are graves and

memorials, one behind the other, and the spaces in between are filled with

shadow...

Wait. 

I see it. Something appears, under the incline of a tilted tombstone.

They blink into visibility from the darkness, two lilac orbs, rimmed with

white and shining by virtue of some unnatural power.

Eyes?

I force myself to glide back a metre, but can do no more. I'm paralysed-

though not with fear! Something is holding me.

Someone? 

The shadows melt from around the globes. They slip off like the silk dress

from a lady-by-the-hour and reveal a form, perfectly lit. It's not that it

glows, it's that it's decided that it no longer needs to hide, and so casts

the darkness from itself like an old cloak, replacing it with a mantle of

moonlight.

It is a female, crouching under the grave marker's slant. Her left hand

is on the ground, and her right forearm is draped across her knee. She's

dressed in a black-and-red body-suit with a leather jacket, and a white streak

runs down the middle of her long brown hair.

The figure brushes a stray lock from her forehead, then stands.

"Gosunkugi Skeride," she announces, with a smirk and a mock- bow. Not

that she has to.

Every spirit knows the name of the killer of the dead.

Now, it IS fear that I feel.

"I've heard reports of you." The assassin smiles while speaking. "Pots

flying, dust swept... You had me going there, for a while. I almost thought

you were a poltergeist." The panic I feel is enough to cause beads of

ki-sweat to form upon my brow. All legal recourse is lost with one's life,

and if I'm her target... She takes upon herself the task of jury, judge and

executioner, and in her law it is a crime for the dead to be with the living.

There is no reprieve, and the penalty is oblivion. "ALMOST," she continues as

she advances, "but not quite, Minnako."

"What... What are you going to do to me?"

As if I didn't know. In fact, I knew the details all too well.

"Get rid of you, of course. The land of the living is no place for the

dead."

"Please; I was just trying to help them, I -"

"By killing yourself?"

My eyes widen, and she notices.

"Don't be startled. I speak with your husband often; he cleans the floor I

room on. He's scared of you, you know." A pause. "He led me here."

"NO!" It CAN'T be true! Yakume wouldn't... He... The beads on my forehead

turn to streams of tears, and I try to bolt, but find myself unable to move

beyond the slightest twitch.

"Don't strain yourself. Your soul is weak, and I've had a long time to

practice mind control. You're fortunate I've allowed you to speak. Now,

let's see..." Her eyes narrow, and her grin widens. "How to dissipate you...

Hmm..." The eyelids close, her arms are raised before her, and her lips

tremble slightly.

I watch in horrified fascination as Skeride begins to glow a shade of

lilac. This is it. I've heard of it. Once that aura's seen, the exorcism

does not fall long behind.

I'd make a final prayer, but who'd hear it?

Maybe she's right. Maybe... Maybe I DON'T belong in this world any more.

Or in the next.

A few more futile attempts to release myself, and then I resign myself to

my fate. What else can I do? An instinctive gulp, a nervous shudder, more

sweat, and an unbelievable depression. To think that YAKUME, my HUSBAND, to

think that HE betrayed me, when I was trying to make up for what I'd done...

Just as I come to the conclusion that perhaps it's best that this is

happening, the glow subsides, and the Gosunkugi turns her back to me. Have I

been acquitted?

I reach to her - or try - the bonds on me have not been lifted.

"I have decided," says the exorcist, "Not to use the bubble."

"I... I'm free?!?"

A brief laugh.

"I didn't say that." She pivots to face me. There is something in her

hand that wasn't there before. "It's been a while since I've used the

P'ur-bu, and you'll make a perfect training target."

She lifts it before me, taunting me by letting me view what is to be the

instrument of my destruction. Every detail is absorbed, in only seconds,

indelibly engraved upon the slate that is my memory.

It is a dagger topped with a copper lion's mask, demonic and leering. The

bronze grip is intricately carved with a pattern of intertwined snakes, and...

other things, half-hidden by her fingers.

She sees me looking at the weapon, and leads my gaze further down with a

movement of her own eyes - there I note the two crossed triangles in cold grey

iron that form the blade, topped by a ring of three boars' heads. The metal

glows with green, white and yellow flames. This was never meant to tear

through flesh, but to pierce a soul.

"Run," says Skeride. "You have five seconds of grace."

She nods her head, and I can move again. Surprise and bewilderment waste

half of my sparse time, then I recover and float as quickly as I can, away...

But not quickly enough..

She raises the mystical dagger, takes aim and throws it.

Perfect shot. It heads towards my chest in a straight line -

And falls to the floor with a hiss, and a flash of emerald fire.

"What on earth?!?"

Who helped me? I have few friends, and none of them would dare to come

between this predatoress and her prey...

I follow Skeride's angry gaze to the top of a nearby obelisk and see a

dark silhouette against the moon. I can't make out details past a male

physique, and a yellow (or is it orange?) tinge to his long cloak. He'd...

Thrown something that stopped the weapon...

His intervention saved my afterlife, but who is there to stand for him?

Glaring at the intruder, the Assassin takes her dagger from the ground and

wipes it clean on the side of her trousers.

"Who are you?" she asks.

A pause (for thought?) and the shadow-man answers her.

"Just a passer-by." His voice is strong and gentle, but the outline of his

limbs suggests he's tensed, and ready to spring into action if need be.

"This is none of your business."

"The persecution of my kind is ALWAYS my business."

"Your... Kind?" For once, my foe and I speak in unison.

The one who saved me turns his head to face my own.

"You may know me as the Wanderer."

The Wanderer...

I have heard of him... And... It makes sense... I never dreamed that he

existed, though... He's more of a myth, a legend - a kind of wandering Jew...

They say that centuries ago, his spirit had been cursed to walk all lands

until he had atoned for the evil in his life... He'd been a selfish, lazy lord

who paid no attention to his subject's pleas, sacrificing their comfort for

his luxury, and never leaving his palace walls. After death he was compelled

to go from place to place, staying nowhere longer than an evening, and helping

those he could...

By luck, he has found me tonight.

Apparently, the Gosunkugi also knows the story - not surprising, for

someone in her line of work.

Startled, she looks over her adversary, and steps back a few confused

steps.

It's not long before she regains her composure and leaps toward the

avenging spirit, P'ur-bu in hand.

I scream, but by warning is unnecessary. Supernaturally-enhanced reflexes

kick in, and the man propels himself from the obelisk just in time for Skeride

to miss and tumble over it, flipping onto her feet on the other side.

"Stay away," the Wanderer hisses at me. "I've already saved you once; I'm

not sure I can do it again."

I want to help, to protect him, but I realise my frail constitution will

only harm his chances, so I nod and hide behind a crypt. From that vantage

point, I can safely watch the battle.

Seeing him distracted, Skeride charges with her dagger foremost. With

lighting speed, the man unsheathes his own weapon from a back-held scabbard

and swings at her when she comes close, knocking her against a gravestone and

sending the blade flying out of her hand to bury itself in the ground between

them.

That, at least, bodes well. Both combatants seem to realise that if the

Assassin tries to take it out, the time she wastes will allow the Wanderer to

win the battle.

Which would be... Awkward, to say the least. Dying in such a way, the

exorcist would join our ranks.. An amusing thought, and a situation she would

not find... Pleasant.

The two begin to walk around in a circle, with the P'ur-bu as its focus.

They never take their eyes off each other, and I can see them as they go by

me...

Skeride's still illuminated by that unnatural not-darkness I first

noticed, and her face is drawn, pale (but for the dark-ringed eyes) and

determined.

As for the Wanderer.. I try to make out features, but when I think I have

his face in focus, the image flows, and blurs, so I can't see anything

clearly other than the crop of hair covering most of his forehead. As much as

the other is luminescent, he is bathed in shadow.

Though... Not for long... A few moments, and my champion begins to glow in

the blue of the spirit-light. He seems to be drawing the energy from the

graves around him... The very stones yield up their death-essence and channel

it into him. The netherworld knows its avatar, and tries to strengthen him.

Unfortunately, he also faces its greatest foe.

The Assassin herself is now surrounded by an aura, hers being the same

dull purple as her eyes.

She's going to exorcise him! 

I must do something, so I jump towards her, but too late. She cups her

hands, and with a shout of "Tamashii wana awa!" forms the fatal lilac globe of

ki, which she sends hurtling towards him.

The warrior is ready. He closes his eyes and the blue flames about him

grow, as do those of his surroundings... They pour power into him at an

alarming rate, and he, too, releases it with a battle cry:

"Shishi Houkodan!"

The aura leaves him in a solid column of azure fire which rushes upwards a

few metres before cataracting back onto him The ground beneath the Wanderer

rumbles, and coils of dust are sent flying by the impact. The rest of the

spiritual energy erupts in a ki-shock-wave at the height of his chest which

spreads outward as a growing disc...

The monuments which fed the blast also absorb unharmed its impact, but I'm

knocked down, and the Assassin with me.

When I rise, the 'Soul Trap Bubble' has dissipated, and a spent-looking

spirit stands erect, hands at his sides and head hung low.

"Don't trouble my kind any longer," he softly intones.

Skeride simply glares at him. She's been defeated, but refuses to admit

it. I am safe, for now. She crouches, huffing, and wipes blood from her face

where she's been cut by her fall, but she does not move towards me.

The Wanderer then walks to where I am, head still lowered slightly, just

enough so that I cannot see his face.

"You don't have to leave until you're ready," he assures me. The voice is

soothing by its mere presence... But the words puzzle me.

"Ready?" I ask. "Ready for what?"

"Until your business is settled. We spirits all have unfinished business,

now, don't we?" He chuckles. Does he find it funny?

I wonder whether to answer, but am stopped by a shadow of light rising

behind him.

"Wanderer! Behind-"

With a single graceful stroke, he once more unsheathes his weapon and

points it at the Assassin's chest. Its tip glows blue, and by that strange

light I can see it clearly. No sword, or bokken, but-

A bamboo umbrella? 

"Don't mess with me," he growls. These words are threatening, just as

those to me were comforting. "My people are unhappy as they are, and if you

try to add FEAR to their lot," The glow around the umbrella intensifies. "I

am prepared to use that depression to avenge them."

"You don't frighten me," she claims, but the cold sweat glistening on her

forehead betrays her.

"And I'll make sure you cannot frighten HER." The Wanderer nods in my

direction, and Skeride raises an eyebrow. "I cannot stay," he continues, "but

I'll make sure THIS hunt, at least, ends here."

The Gosunkugi closes her eyes and begins to tremble in expectation of

having the umbrella run through her heart.

Instead, the spirit jumps and somersaults onto the top of my headstone and

thrusts the tip of his weapon onto it.

"Bakusai-ten-ketsu!"

The cry is soon drowned out by the sound of stone shattering and

fountaining upwards. When the shrapnel falls, the Wanderer has disappeared,

and I am left alone with Her.

The Gosunkugi stands and looks in silence at the pile of rubble, then

draws her dagger from the ground and wipes it clean before re-sheathing it.

"I'll be seeing you again," she tells me with a smirk, "once you've had a

proper burial." I watch quietly as she turns back and begins to walk, melting

invisibly into the shadows from which she'd come.

Now I am by myself.

And free, for the moment, to... Settle unfinished business?

The moon is yet low in the sky - there's time.

Smiling, I set off towards the university; towards my husband's home where

I can be of SOME use, even if it be in housekeeping...

I'll be quieter, this time.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Fate - monstrous and empty,

Shadowed and veiled

You plague me too;

Now through the game I bring my bare back

To your villainy."

-From the 'Carmina Burana'

Translation (c) 1984 The Decca

Record Company Ltd., London

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

BETRAYAL

"O Fortuna, velut Luna statu variabilis

Semper crecis aut decrescis;

vita detestabilis nunc obdurat et tunc curat

ludo mentis aciem..."

-From the 'Carmina Burana'

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Watching the sun set reminded him of when his own life-light had been

extinguished... It had been a long illness. Long, and painful. He'd come

to cherish the spasms, though... The constant bashing of his head, the

churning of his gut, the messages from all his limbs telling him they

couldn't hold on for long... He'd MADE them keep on going. He'd used his

almost supernatural endurance to survive; to force himself to go through

this, because it brought atonement, and the very agony would take his mind

away from the REAL pain - the knowledge he'd betrayed his friends... And

more.

First had come Ranma. It wasn't so bad that he'd died; Ryouga had

always known his foolishness would get him killed, but to drag AKANE with

him...

If only for that, he should have been there... He would have been

able to help, and if Saotome would have lived, then she... She would have

also.

Why dwell upon that now, though? He'd chewed on the topic for

decades, and it's not as if it was his ONLY misdoing... In time, he'd

found his outward lack of navigational skills to be only a pale reflection

of his soul - Whenever anyone he cared for needed him, he found it easier

to be away, to be lost...

Ranma had only been the beginning. It hadn't sufficed to let his

first love and his greatest frie... Rival die.

He had to make it worse.

No use delving into what had happened with Nabiki. They'd spent a

night together, then he'd abandoned her, and she had also died.

Blown to bits.

Torn to pieces by his neglect, when she needed him MOST, after

Kasumi's accident. Where was he? Where he always was. Somewhere else,

lost and depressed, too buried in his own angst to even think of bringing

comfort to others.

And finally... Ukyou. They hadn't married for love; both of them had

known that. It was more for... Spiritual convenience. They needed each

other, for comfort. They'd both lost their goals in life. She had no

Ranchan to betroth, he no opponent to beat or Scarlet heart to win...

Yes, they'd been more or less happy for a time, and had even had a

child. They'd named him 'Kioku', 'Memory', after the only link that held

them together...

Then, what had he done? Withdrawn again into his own dark world of

self-pity and loneliness, leaving her alone. She'd gone mad, of course.

Ucchan died in the Sanatorium, after spending years in a straight-jacket,

eating institutional okonomiyaki from soft rubber plates...

Yes; the spasms helped to stop his thoughts on that. The pulsing fire

through his fibres stopped his dwelling on the past, and linked him to the

present, to the house, the room, the GROUND, while Kioku's hand upon his

own reminded him that he was dying a coward's death, and not one of a

warrior.

It was better that way.

That evening, so long ago, the thoughts had passed much the same

through his mind... He'd thought they'd be his last before oblivion, and

so he had endeavoured to remind himself of all his crimes, of all that

he'd betrayed...

"Akane..." had been the last word from his lips.

And then, the unexpected.

The room grew dark, and a column of white light tinged with blue

descended on him - a Shishi Houkodan reversed, the pillar being of joy,

not depression... He felt his essence being lifted from the aged framed,

the pain released and just as he'd been promised by theology, his beloved

was there to greet him.

"Akane..."

She was beautiful. From his vantage point, her yellow-and-blue pastel

dress almost glowed...

But she was on the other side - not within, but without the bright and

beautiful light...

As he looked on, she turned around, and bowed her head, and walked out

of the chamber with the doctors and the nurses.

He was leaving her, again.

He tried with all his might to shout, but he could make no sound that

she could hear. He resisted the warm suction pulling him upwards and

battled the force, clawing, forcing, pushing until when She was just

beyond his line of sight, he made it past the white barrier, and found

himself-

Somewhere else.

He'd gotten lost on his way to the Afterlife.

That's when it had begun; the journey that would end tonight.

Less than half an hour, now, until the twilight gave completely to the

canopy of starts, and the moon took over from the sun...

Only half an hour, and it'd be over.

He had resolved, back then, to never be intentionally lost again: all

his travels would be with a single purpose. Some kind deity above had

allowed him one last chance for happiness, one last chance to atone for

his crimes, and to live a true Heaven on Earth.

He saw it all so clearly...

Ranma had never TRULY loved Akane; even in Death he had forsaken her.

Ryouga would not do the same... He would find her, no matter how long it

took, he had promised to himself, and when he did, he would protect her,

care for her... Now free of their mortality, they could ALWAYS be

together...

To seek her out, and serve her as Ranma never had - that had been his

vow.

That first wrong turn, at his deathbed, had landed him in Africa...

After that had come years of wanderings and painful journeys. At every

point in his travels he would come across more of his new people, the

restless dead - each of them had its own sad story of unnatural death and

unfinished business...

His love for Akane was always foremost in his mind, its brilliance

like that of a Holy Grail. It was the object of a quest that promised

Salvation at its conclusion - always his beacon, always his ultimate goal,

but in the meantime...

He hadn't been able to pass the others by. There were so many tales

of suffering, so many people who needed him... He couldn't pass THESE

by... Couldn't bear repeating the mistakes of his life in this new

existence...

So, he'd helped. In a slightly altered form.

Hibiki Ryouga, for all intents and purposes, was gone. The geriatric

millionaire who'd lived and died a bitter hermit turned to dust along with

his cadaver. He... He didn't want to be remembered as a sickly man who

had betrayed all he had loved... He had been granted a new beginning in

Death, and so he had gone back to where the Ending had begun.

Ghosts can change their appearance as they please, and he'd set his

back many years, to his youth - to the time he'd spent with Ranma.

Gone were the suits and long black kimonos, and back on came his

bandannas (now truly infinite in number), his long, coarse yellow shirt,

black trousers and leg-ties... The umbrella had proved a perfect shape for

channelling ki, and to finish it all off, he'd added a cloak..

Rough and brown, it symbolised his current state. He hid his features

with it, not letting himself take credit for the deeds he performed... His

need to prove himself, and to acquire a reputation had already caused

ENOUGH damage.

Now, he was known only as 'The Wanderer'. He only stayed in a place

long enough to help the spirits there and find his bearings, and then

would continue on his way. Stories grew up about him; legends, too. Some

called him the Wandering Jew, others said he was a shipmate's of the

Flying Dutchman's. When asked, he neither confirmed nor denied the

rumours... All that mattered to him was not to abandon those who needed

him, and not to lose track of his true goal. Again, his covering was a

reminder of this. It was the cloak which he'd torn off on his first

approach to Tokyo, so many years ago.

And now, it seemed, he would at last be able to toss it from himself -

Forever.

He was here, in Nerima, and with the first beams of the moon, She

would surely come...

If not before.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, drawing into him the energy from

his surroundings.

Stone by stone, the memorials poured their power into him; all their

stored depression, all their sadness filled his spirit-body, charging him,

energising him...

He was on blessed ground, where Akane's ashes lay, and to be on it at

last, yet immaterial was almost sacrilege. He channelled the ki into his

feet, giving them some semblance of solidity, so he could FEEL the dirt,

and leave an impression on it.

Ironic - the dark emotions would now pave his way to joy.

A smile crossed his face, for the first time in years, and he started

on the pebbled path to the Tendo tomb.

Just before reaching it, he stopped.

Two women, dressed in black, were kneeling at the monument next to it.

The taller one was blonde, and the other had-

Short black hair.

Could it be? 

From behind, he couldn't tell, but he wouldn't dare to go in front of

them, in case-

He took the safe way out - going as close as he could, then hiding

behind a tombstone, and watching.

The dark-haired one was sobbing, but broke through her tears for long

enough to speak.

"Why did he have to die? WHY? He's gone, and I couldn't tell him

that... I... That..." The girl turned her head, and Ryouga saw her face at

last. It WAS Akane. Even in grief, she was beauty personified, but...

Why? It couldn't be that... Could it? "It's all my fault!" she

continued, green ki-tears flowing freely from her eyes in a manner that he

himself had seen too often. "If only I hadn't... I... I could be with

him, now!"

She might mean you, he tried to fool himself, she was at your

deathbed, and she saw the light come for you... 

"Hush, lass. Wherever he is, I'm sure he's watching over you... He

can see you, and hear what you say... He KNOWS... You shouldn't blame

yourself."

I know, and I would NEVER blame you - not for anything... 

"Who ELSE can I blame?"

Me. 

There was silence for some time, then Akane's face twisted itself into

a grimace and her right fist glowed a slimy green. "Ranma no baka!" she

shouted, and threw a ki-charged punch at the name carved into the black

marble in front of her.

A millimetre before contact, the attack stopped short.

"I love you," she sobbed, lowering her hand and head while the blonde

gripped her in a careful, slow embrace.

Ryouga returned the borrowed energy to the graveyard; he had more than

enough dark ki to fuel him now. Too shocked to speak, or make himself

known, he backed away in silence.

This was no place for him.

His time had not yet come; he should never have thought that a few

years of desperation could make up for the lives he'd spoiled, the chances

he'd been offered and which he had declined...

He turned and ran full-speed but immaterial into the moon-rise, going

through wood and stone and grass like the will-o'-the-wisp he now was...

He no longer cared where it was he went. He'd seen the Grail, and had

not been found worthy of its bounty. When he'd set his goal, he had

misjudged, and forgotten one thing in his heart of love and hatred...

Ranma had left Her, but SHE had not abandoned HIM.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"O Fortune, like the moon ever-changing,

Always waxing, only to wane once more;

Hateful life now tempers, then heals,

mocking the mind's establishment..."

-From the 'Carmina Burana'

Translated by C. Willmore

--------------------------------------------------------------------------


	21. Vendetta

VENDETTA

Yet another offering from the

Anything-Goes School of Indiscriminate Fanfic Writing

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

written by Erin Mills

edited by 4cw6

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

R2096 characters and situations used with permission. Takahashi's aren't.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Once upon a time I was falling in love

Now I'm only falling apart

Nothing I can say

A total eclipse of the heart"

-'Total Eclipse of the Heart', Written by Jim Steinman

Performed by Bonnie Tyler

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

TOKYO INSTITUTE FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE, OCT. 15 2038 3:14AM

Ukyou sat on her bunk, her knees drawn up under her chin, her arms

clasped around them. It was a comfortable position after so many years

of being confined in a straight-jacket.

She had tried to sleep, but couldn't. Her mind was racing. Racing with

bitter, hateful thoughts.

No one had come to see her.

No one.

Obviously, neither Ranma nor Akane would be showing up. But the

others - Kasumi, Nabiki...Hell, even SHAMPOO would've been a welcome

sight.

But there was no one.

Even her own husband hadn't bothered to show up with their son.

That was the ultimate insult. She hadn't even been allowed to see

Kioku on her birthday. Oh, no, not her. For Hibiki Ukyou it was just

another twenty-four hours of diagnoses and examinations.

How many more tests could they take? There were only so many muscles

in the human body, only so many vertebrae and types of spinal fluid.

She was cured; couldn't the damn doctors see that? The last outburst

she'd had was when she broke an orderly's nose... five years ago. Or was

it six? Kind of hard to tell when the only way you have of telling time is

by the LCD clocks in the halls. Since then she'd been a model patient,

saying 'no, thank-you', and 'an' it please you, sir, do feel free to take

another sample of my flesh'.

It made her sick. That whole charade, that whole DISGUSTING facade

of complacency... All of that had been so she'd eventually be allowed to

see her son, to see the one she'd BIRTHED on her own birthday, and to

be once again together with her husband. Her HUSBAND. For that, she'd put

up with torments and suffered incalculable degradation.

And now, this.

"Doctor Takamoshi," she'd begun that morning, "I... I have a favour

to ask."

He'd lifted his eyes from the pad he was scribbling on, and - smiled.

It had filled her with hope, that grin of his.

"Yes?" he'd asked.

"It's my birthday today."

After a glance within the folder he'd held, he'd agreed.

"Yes, it is."

"I... Was wondering..."

"Another dream?"

"No. Just a favour."

"Ah. What kind of... favour? I've told you before, your cell is far

too small to fit an okonomiyaki griddle in, and the fire hazard, even for

just one day, is-"

"Not that."

"What, then?"

"I would like to see my son."

He'd frozen, then, and looked her straight in the eye, his face an

unreadable mask.

"Your son." No emotion.

"Yes. My son. Kioku. Hibiki Kioku."

He'd smiled again, Doctor Takamoshi had.

And the smile had grown, and burst into a laugh, a vile sound which

still rang in her ears hours afterward.

Ukyou was starting to get angry again. All right, so maybe it wasn't

all Ryouga's fault. With Takamoshi keeping her at bay like that, it was

almost impossible for anyone to get to her.

But it WASN'T anyone that she needed, that she wanted to see; it

was RYOUGA! Her husband! Why didn't he just... Blast his way in and rescue

her, or use that company of his to pull some weight?

Ukyou fingered an imaginary spatula as her fury swelled, and she felt

an urge to shout, to scream at those who'd kept her in, who'd CAGED her

then abandoned her, figuring it was easier to forget about her than to

hate her.

She fought it down. It wouldn't do any good to rant out loud. That

would only alert the orderlies and prompt another rousing game of 'Guess

the Sedative.'

She had to make do with her thoughts, her silent thoughts, just as

inaudible in her mind as when she spoke them out loud.

It's official then, isn't it? Nobody cares anymore. Nobody gives a

damn. They don't want anything to do with me. Why should they?

"Oh no," they say, "We can't see her. We can't bear to look at her in

such torment. It must be awful living like that day after day...NO SHIT! I

can't stand this place anymore! I'm sick of staring at the same four walls

every day! Oh, that was her darling husband all over. He'd go on and on

about how something made him depressed, and start that blue-green glow

of his, but when it came time to DO something about, he found it better

to sulk in the sidelines than to get involved. He probably felt so NOBLE,

following his sacred 'Bushido'. Yeah, right. Just an excuse for him

to stay away and feel good about not doing anything, while she rotted

in a padded cell. And it was no use for HER to try to get herself out

of this mess. She could talk to the doctors, tell them her every problem,

tell them she was fine now, but all they had to do was open that file and

read the words '..destroyed half of the Nerima district unassissted...' to

make them decide to slap her back in here and do more tests.

Where had her life gone? Once upon a time, she'd had Ranchan, and...

Even though she might not have admitted it then, Akane. Then along came

that ghost, and suddenly - they were gone. Taken from her. Everything

that had filled her had been removed.

Then, she'd found Ryouga, who'd made her whole for a time, and she,

too, had sealed the void in his life - or so she'd thought.

Or so she'd been foolish enough to think.

He'd seemed so kind, so gentle as he grinned, and nosebled (she'd

never forget the laundry bill for the wedding night), and yes, he held

her and whispered to her how much she meant to her...

And of course, she believed him.

When he left for days at a time, she pegged it on his lack of

direction.

Now, she was beginning to doubt it.

Damn you, Ryouga! He'd made himself a PART of her, and now that

he was gone - no... Now that he refused to be here, she was only half

herself, only partially here, and she felt it.

She felt like something was missing, doubly since her son had also

been removed from her. Kioku was TRULY of her flesh, more than what was

in the little test tubes they removed from her daily.

And he? Why didn't HE feel likewise? Why wasn't there a gap in HIS

life, that he'd do anything to bridge?

Whaddya wanna bet those weren't random trips after all. 

That had to be it. The scumbag probably had girls, lined up all over

the world. A real 'travellin' man'. 'Ukyou's locked away,' he probably

said to himself, 'and so much the better. Now I can stay longer with that

'friend' of mine in Waikiki'...

Despite herself, Ukyou began to cry. She tried to stop the flow of

tears -she wanted to be angry, not sad! She should be outraged, damn it!

She should be shouting, yelling...

But somehow, she didn't have the strength to.

Even if she did, who would listen?

The only people who truly paid attention to what she said were the

journalists, early on, and now and then the occasional historian...

And always, the questions they wanted answered were about her past.

Not about her present - for nothing happened - not about her future -

for she had none - but about her PAST, what had been, about the time

when she had LIVED, when her life had MEANT something.

Not like now.

Deity, why? Why am I still on this planet where nobody cares any

more? Where no one loves me? Where all anyone will remember is the pain

and suffering I caused? Why? Why? Why?!? WHY?!? 

"WHY? WHY? WHY?!" The screams burst from her lips involuntarily. She

screamed the words over and over again, until the whole ward was awake and

screaming along with her.

She fell to her knees in the centre of her room, raised her fists to

her mouth in her old habitual gesture and unleashed a shout that summed

up her decade of imprisonment.

"WHYYYYYYY?!!!!!!!"

Because...

Ukyou froze. She knew that voice. It was weak and distant, but she

recognised it. She couldn't fail to - she'd heard it in her dreams... No.

In her nightmares, night after night, year upon year, but it'd been

close to a decade since it had spoken to her in the real world.

You know why, Ukyou. You've always known...

No... Not this... Not on my birthday - there's still a chance that

Ryo-chan might- 

You call him that now, after all you've done, and thought? It was

closer, now.

Get out of my thoughts! 

The voice cackled.

You hypocrite, it said, and for some reason, it sounded pleased.

It was always only a matter of time, Ucchan.

It seemed to be right outside her door now, taunting her with her own

name.

"Don't call me that!"

Oh? You would prefer... Oko-chan?

Ukyou tensed and for the first time in years green ki began to glow

about her, as she instinctively crept into a battle stance.

"How DARE you use that name... You... You MONSTER!"

As much of a monster as you said your husband was?

The door creaked ajar, and Ukyou's battle aura intensified.

As much of a monster as YOURSELF?

That did it. All her depression flowed away, washed off by a flood

of pure, undiluted hatred, and she launched herself at the door as

it opened...

"Grab her arm! She's lost control again!"

"But she's glowing!"

"Use the titanium needle - ten cc's of Ono-Six."

"Isn't that a bit much?"

"Remember what she did!"

"Oh, Lord! It looks like she's about to-"

"NOW!"

The green energy surrounding her was on the brink of exploding when

they jabbed her in the arm. Ukyou felt a sharp pain, then a wave of fire

rose up her spine and exploded in her brain as the excruciation spread

along her veins and caused another detonation in her chest.

She collapsed on the floor.

The autopsy report stated that Patient #473806 died of 'a freak

inrush of blood through the veins, fatally exceeding her cardiac capacity

and resulting in aortic and ventricular disintegration'.

Or, in layman's terms, Hibiki Ukyou died of a broken heart.

"Name?"

Ukyou opened her eyes, only to find the familiar white-washed concrete

walls of her ward gone, replaced by wood panelling and plush blue

carpeting. Wherever she was, with the recent government cutbacks, it sure

as heck wasn't loony-land.

"Name?"

Name? Ukyou thought. She stood up and looked at her surroundings in

more detail. She was in a lavishly furnished, oak-panelled office.

Bookshelves lined the walls, each volume bound in coloured leather. A pair

of leather upholstered chairs stood in front of a large, ornately carved

ebony desk.

And behind the desk...

"Name?"

Ukyou looked at the person behind the desk. He was a young looking-man

dressed in a grey three piece suit. Questioning brown eyes stared at her

from behind a pair of black rimmed spectacles. Unruly brown hair flopped

down onto his left eye. The nameplate on the desk read 'Miller'.

The name meant nothing to her.

"Ku..er...Hibiki Ukyou," she answered. Miller nodded.

"Have a seat, Miss Kuonji,"

Ukyou stared at him. He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I thought that was the name you preferred."

"I...I do, but how did you--"

"We know everything on this side," Miller replied, interrupting her.

"Then why did you ask me my name?"

"Coherency test. Please, sit."

Ukyou took a seat, feeling very confused. Miller walked over to a

shelf, took down a book bound in purple leather, and returned to his seat.

"To begin with, Miss Kuonji, you're dead."

"Dead?"

"Dead. You died of a fatal cardiac haemorrhage."

"Then this is..."

"...A way-station to determine exactly where you'll fit into afterlife

society."

Uh-huh. Right.

Sorry to tell you, buster, but I don't quite feel dead. 

The woman looked around. No doors or windows anywhere; not even a

ventilation shaft to serve as an exit. That left her with several

options:

a. She had been drugged, and this was just another, particularly

demented, particularly vivid hallucination. She thought she could

remember being poked with a needle just before... Just before passing

out, so that was a definite alternative.

b. Takamoshi was up to his old tricks again, and was trying to prove

she was unbalanced by placing her in a staged situation so absurd that

acceptance of it would imply that she was out of her 'yaki-flipping mind.

c. This 'Miller' was telling the truth.

Ukyou thought for a second, instantly discarded (c), pondered (a) and

finally decided upon (b) as the most likely, since her thoughts were quite

clear, and no little horned devils seemed to be crawling out of the

woodwork, as they would be in one of her drug dreams.

Pending further information, she decided to play along. Just until she

caught on to Takamoshi's game.

"So," she asked, "this is the big judgement? Just you, me and that

book?"

"Anti-climactic, I know, that's exactly what I thought when I came

over. Anyway, this book details the major events in your life. It tallies

up the good deeds and sins you performed in your life. Whichever total is

higher, after cancels are figured in--"

"Cancels?"

"Good deeds and sins cancel each other out on a one-to-one basis.

Larger sins or good deeds take out more than one of the other."

"I see," said Ukyou, putting it together. "You count up the number of

good deeds I've performed and the sins I've committed and whatever's left

over decides where I go?"

"In a nutshell."

"Seems like a stupid system to me, sugar."

Miller nodded. "I know, but the Three consider it the most fair

way."

"The Three?"

Let's see... There was Takamoshi, Gosunkugi... And... Ono?

"You'll find out more about them later. Now, then..."

Miller opened the book and began paging through it, his eyes scanning

each page at incredible speed. While she waited, Ukyou amused herself by

imagining exactly what would happen if the numbers didn't come out in her

favour.

Suppose it's like the Christian Hell... Flames, pitchforks, men

running around naked pushing rocks up hills... That could be interesting.

Hmm... But what if it's personalised? Giant okonomiyaki trying to pound me

flat with spatulas... Could I stand the torment? Ukyou smirked. Ha! What

am I saying? I've lost Ranma and spent most of my adult life in an insane

asylum. Could any Hell be worse? 

"Yes, actually." Miller said, not taking his eyes off the page he was

scanning. Ukyou's eyes went wide.

"I told you, we know everything on this side."

For an instant, a flash of uncertainty crossed her mind. Maybe he WAS

telling the truth? Then common sense kicked in, and she decided that she

must have either spoken aloud or imagined the response.

While she was still puzzling it out, a look of confusion crossed

Miller's face. He backtracked a few pages and reread, then stopped in the

same place.

"What's wrong?" asked Ukyou, a hint of fear creeping into her voice.

Miller looked up at her.

"Well, it--" He was interrupted by the ringing of the phone on the

desk. He frowned.

"It's supposed to be paradise," he said, picking up the receiver.

"You'd think that there wouldn't be phones. Yes?...Mm-hm...Yes, she's just

arrived...She's balanced out...Yes! Yes, I'm sure...What?...But are you

sure that...Yes, ma'am...Yes. I'll give her the briefing. Yes. I'll see to

everything, Mittsuko. Thank you. Good-bye."

Miller hung up the phone, scowled, regained his composure and looked

at Ukyou.

"Problem?" she asked.

"Of a sort. You see, Miss Kuonji, you've balanced out."

"Balanced out?"

"All of your good deeds and all of your sins have cancelled each other

out. According to this," he gestured at the book, "aside from a few

instances involving attempted break-ups of Saotome Ranma and Tendo Akane's

engagement."

Ukyou flushed.

"And the repeated abuse of one Kurenai Tsubasa."

She turned red.

"The major sin in your life was the destruction of the Nerima

district."

He failed to see her wince.

"However," Miller continued. "Your admittance of the fact that you

needed psychiatric treatment, plus the other good deeds you've performed,

plus...other information that has come to our attention, has resulted in

that sin being cancelled, but there are no good deeds left either."

"So, what happens now?" Ukyou asked. She could guess, though. All

this psyching up, all this preparation... They were going to try to get

a confession out of her. They were going to try to make her break down

and say how crazy she'd been to do all those things, by pointing out all

her mistakes, all the things she felt worst about in her life, and then

they'd lock her up for life.

She wasn't going to let it happen.

Keeping up the charade, Ukyou smiled at her captor.

Miller closed the book and looked at her.

"How would you like to see what the end results of all those 'tests'

in the hospital were?"

"Nani?"

This... Was unexpected, to say the least.

Careful, Kuo... Hibi... Ukyou. You know how tricky the doctors can

be. Don't take anything they say at face value. 

"You were used, Miss Kuonji."

Ukyou chose her words carefully.

"I... Was not aware of that."

"Do you remember those tests?"

"Which tests." A statement, not a question. She'd play it safe and

stick to the official sanatorium story.

Miller leafed through the book in front of him.

"Oh, I'm sure you remember them. Skin samples, flesh, hair, nails,

blood and... And..." His eyes widened, and he cleared his throat. "And

other things."

"Oh. THOSE tests."

"Yes. THOSE tests," he said, imitating her inflection. "They were

designed to obtain genetic samples from you in order to create the

ultimate soldier."

"What? Soldier? But I-"

Miller sighed, and cut her off.

"The details aren't too important right now. You'll be briefed in

full later, assuming you acce- Ah. I'm getting ahead of myself. My

apologies. For now, all you need to know, Miss Kuonji, is that someone

down there," he pointed at the floor, "thinks your DNA is grade A

primordial soup stock."

"Why me?" This was getting stranger by the second.

"It seems your genes cancel out the bad parts in those of someone

else who they're VERY interested in duplicating and improving. The rest

is quite simple. They take a little bit of you, a little bit of him, and

mix them together to create a completely new person. Unfortunately, my

superiors don't like Life Creation rights being taken away from them. But,

that is not the issue I've been assigned to deal with. The issue here is

this: Do you want a chance to perform one last good deed?"

Silence.

The two stared at each other. Or rather, Ukyou stared at the man, who

seemed to be READING her.

"You don't believe me," said Miller at length.

"No." It didn't take a mind-reader to figure THAT out.

"And if I could prove it to you?"

This should be entertaining. 

"Go ahead and try."

Miller nodded, picked up the phone once again, and dialled.

"Hello? Charon? Yeah. I need a little favour. Could you send up

3-A-L-OK? Yes, I know it's a bit out of order, but Mit- No, listen! The

Three REALLY want this done, and... Only for thirty seconds.. Half a

minute is all! Why? Well, I've got an assignment here that won't believe

she's dead. No! Don't laugh! Come on! I- Uh-huh. All right, but- Geeze!

I'm not asking you to send her to earth, it's just to- Okay. Yes, yes,

yes. Thanks. I owe you one. See you at the card game on Thursday?

Great."

click

"I had to pull some strings, but I think this'll do the trick. If

everything turns out as planned, one of your friends should-"

A knock at the door.

Or rather, it would be a knock at the door, if there were any doors in

the room. Secret passage? As it was, it was just a knock.

"That should be her right now," said Miller. "Come in!"

Ukyou's eyes widened (they seeme to be doing that a lot, lately) as a

figure coalesced in the space before her. A pale yellow glow gave way to

a woman's form, which gradually gained in definition. First a dress

filled with silk, lace and pearls, then hair, skin, eyes, and at last...

"Kuonji Ukyou, Ono Kasumi. Ono Kasumi, Kuonji Ukyou."

"K- Kasumi? You were... I thought..."

The figure in front of her smiled and nodded, looking down at her own

feet. Ukyou followed her gaze. Her shoes did not touch the ground.

"I am," said Kasumi in her usual sweet voice, "as are you."

Against her will, tears came to Kuonji's eyes.

"Kasumi... I missed you so! I think about you often... When I'm

alone, locked up, I'll remember the wedding, and that day you visited me

after... After Ra-"

The spirit shushed her, placing a finger against Ukyou's lips.

"I don't have much time," she said, and took Ukyou's hands in her own.

"I must go back, but promise me-"

"Yes?"

"Help them, Ukyou."

Kuonji's hands were still outstretched before her when the figure

disappeared.

Miller cleared his throat.

"So," he asked. "About that offer of mine... Would you like a second

chance?"

Ukyou sat in thought. One last good deed? A chance to make everything

right? If she pulled it off, maybe they'd send her to where Kasumi was.

And if she had to go back to... back to earth, No use denying it now,

sugar. You're dead as a doornail maybe could see everyone again like--No.

Don't think about the son of a bitch, this was for her. It was about time

she started thinking about herself. All her life, she'd done things for

other people; her father, Ranma, Ryo--that other person. She'd squandered

her life doing what she thought others wanted her to do. Hell, even her

attempts to break up Ranma and Akane were because she'd always believed

that Ranma wanted her to fight for him.

Well, those days were over. Permanently. Her life was wasted, she'd

make sure her death wasn't. She looked Miller right in the eye.

"Yes."

NERIMA GRAVEYARD, JAN. 17, 2094. 3:14 AM

Skeride rested against the withered oak, catching her breath. It

was almost over. After two weeks of tracking, the spirit would finally be

put to rest. He'd been a tough one. Unlike other spirits, he actually had

a will to live (not live?), but soon even this would be taken from him.

She looked at the p'ur-bu in her grip. She would take it from him.

Oh, yes. She could already feel the ectoplasm giving way beneath her

thrusts; she could almost see his unlife essence leaking out from glowing

wounds... She would enjoy this.

The creature was repugnant - more than the other 'bardo' who dared try

to stay among the living. This one had no 'unfinished business' of his

own; not trusting heaven to saddle him with misfortune, he'd taken his

re-creation upon himself. He had (like herself) studied the magic arts,

but (unlike herself) perverted them, twisting them into a mockery of their

true beauty, using the powers he gained not to purify, not to increase,

but to burden himself, to laden his soul with the sins and sorrow of

others.

It was true, thought the Gosunkugi, that she probably owed him

SOMETHING. His moral siphon, or whatever he chose to call it, enabled

many to go straight to the heavens who would otherwise have been her prey.

It took the distillation of the darkness within others and focused it into

himself. A simple enough plan. He probably thought he could cheat death

that way - when he was sure his moral balance was far less than

questionable, he killed himself. A brilliant plan, in most respects -

since the blackness within him was not his, but borrowed, no one could

propitiate his ghost - no ritual could ever put him to rest.

But she did not NEED ritual.

Skeride smirked. He'd taken all things into account, but one - for the

Dead, Thanatos bore another name, and it was printed on her student card.

She'd learned of his existence quite by accident - a man who none but

her saw at the shopping mall, who tended to glow blue every now and then.

He'd escaped her, that time, but when she'd returned home, she'd been

intrigued, and done her research. His portrait in the national gallery

was quite revealing.

As soon as she'd discovered who he was, it'd taken all of a

millisecond to decide to pursue this hunt to its conclusion, whatever the

cost. This travesty, this deliberate perversion of her Art was not to be

tolerated. She had vowed to distil the dead from the living, and here

was one who actually dared to break that order, to-

A noise.

Skeride stood back up, straightened her school jacket, and began to

scan the area.

The spirit had encouraged her by leading her into her favourite

hunting ground, the cemetery, but there was always danger in

over-confidence. She thought she'd give him a gaming head start, since

she knew every inch of the terrain, but...

Chikusho. Have I lost him? 

Snow began to fall. Skeride zipped up her jacket and continued her

search, in vain. All she could see were obelisks and tomb markers in

rows, spreading around in all directions, a veritable jungle of stone. No

spirits. They must have seen her coming, and retreated to their graves.

Wise move.. 

But... This one HAD no grave. Not here, at least, and her wards meant

he couldn't leave by the gate, so that meant-

Skeride focused, closing her eyes and concentrating. She ran a mental

ki-scan of the area. Sure enough, the ghosts were all in their

respective homes, but something... Something was out of place, just-

Behind me? 

The girl whirled around and came face to face with her prey.

"Hello, Tekii," she grinned. "Want to come out and play?"

The spirit's face went pale (well, paler, anyhow), and his jaw moved

up and down uselessly in an instinctive gesture of surprise.

Had he actually expected his trick to WORK? He was fortunate it'd

guarded him for as long as it had! Tsk. Hiding behind her back. The only

reasons she hadn't detected him were that she was cold, and that his ki

was so weak from his exertions that even the average excited liver had

more. The last would prove his undoing.

The Gosunkugi fingered her dagger, and the ghost turned and began to

run, his speed allowing him to melt through the shrines and tombstones.

Skeride followed, leaping over chunks of granite as she ran. She saw the

spirit duck into a crypt and pursued, slowly creeping up to the door.

The girl pushed the stone door of the monument tentatively with one

hand.

To her surprise, it moved.

A further push, and it swung fully open, revealing her target cowering

in the back, the moonlight painting his hands white as he tried

fruitlessly to claw his way through the wall.

Apparently, he hadn't known about the wards built into walls of

crypts. They were meant to contain the dead, so ghosts could enter, but

not leave.

So much the worse for him. Only one question remained. Would it be

the dagger, or the bubble? The dagger was fun, yes, but a second death

by it was far too quick. With the 'tamashii wana awa', the soul was

painfully squeezed, compressed in a time-consuming fashion so that it

could WATCH itself disappear into nothingness...

"Please," the shade begged, "I must stay, I must... I... I've done so

MUCH for this, I spent my life in-"

"You spent more than your life. I'm here to collect the debt."

She reached for the p'ur-bu. A little slice here, a hack or two

there... Skeride needed a little cheering up.

"I... You're a magician, too! Surely you understand! I can share

spells, potions-"

The girl withdrew her hand from her blade's sheath. The dagger

was too good for him.

"You do not belong here." Skeride began to concentrate, generating a

violet glow around her hands. "TAMASHII WANA A-"

She was cut off by a crash of thunder, followed by the sound of an

explosion. Skeride's concentration was broken, and as she instinctively

turned to investigate, the spirit in the crypt charged across the floor,

through her and out into the night.

A bolt of lightning had hit a nearby tombstone, shattering it - but

it was not of nature's kind. Before Skeride could react or chase after

Tekii, a ki shock-wave spread from the site. The force knocked the girl

down and she hit her head against the small steps that led to the door of

the crypt.

The world went black.

When she came to, the spirit was long gone. By now, the weak wards

she'd placed would have worn off, and he'd be free to roam, free to vaunt

his ill-earned second life, free to humiliate her before the Dead, telling

them how he'd escaped the famed Assassin.

Chikusho. 

Who- or whatever was responsible for this wouldpay. That had been

no ordinary electrical discharge. Skeride stood up and walked over to the

destroyed tombstone.

It had buckled under the impact of the force, crumbling into small

bits of stone. Singed vegetation peeked out from from amidst the rubble.

Obviously, the monument had not been cared for.

Maybe one of the pieces has a name on it... 

Skeride reached for a fragment of the stone, but jumped back when the

debris began to glow pink

Yatto. The owner must be coming to claim his prize. 

Skeride ducked behind another tombstone and watched curiously at the

pink glow became a haze which flowed upwards. From within it, silhouette

began to form. No features, at first, but then...

Ah. So it's a SHE. 

In a few moments the details emerged. A woman, as she'd surmised,

probably in her in her early forties, in some sort of drab

institutional clothing. A janitor, perhaps? Her hair was a rich

mahogany, accentuated by a streak of grey that ran from her left temple

down to her waist. Her eyes were a dark brown, bordering on black, and she

was going to die. Again. Very soon.

The new arrival spoke one word. "Home."

"Home."

Ukyou looked out at the enhanced skyline of Tokyo. Here an there a

new building was visible - a geodesic dome, or a mirrored skyscraper,

but all in all, the sight was a familiar one. Oh, yes, it was home all

right. But not the home she left behind.

This was a version of her home twisted and perverted by Ono Tofu for

his own selfish ends. He had wanted to go against the rule of nature, and

keep those who were rightfully dead among the living. For that, he had

sacrificed her life and turned that of many others into a veritable Hell.

And now, all of Japan was threatened. All of Japan was in peril, simply

because of his inability to accept that which was written. Tofu was gone,

but his descendants carried on his legacy.

In lieu of their progenitor, they would pay.

They wanted to keep the dead among the living?

So be it. They'd killed her themselves.

They wanted to build weapons from the dead, to turn them into

instruments of vengeance?

She was halfway there already.

Oh, yes, they would pay for the indignities they'd visited upon her

and her son. The son they had created from her flesh and blood. The son

they had programmed to kill. She had not given birth to him, but she

would give her death to his salvation.

Ukyou frowned in determination. She had lost her chance at helping

Kioku; she would not make the same mistake with Sable.

She began walking towards the gates of the cemetery, each step

bringing a new, instinctive change to her appearance.

She lost 25 years of age. The streak in her hair darkened to match

the rest on her head. Her institutional uniform became a pair of black

tights and shoes with a black tunic with white trim. A replica of her

bandolier appeared across her chest. She felt a sudden tightness in her

hair. She stopped and reached up to find her hair ribbon, done up in it's

usual bow. She frowned, undid the knot and pulled the ribbon out. She

ripped the ribbon in half along the centre and wrapped each half around

her hands. This was no martial arts challenge.

This was war.

Skeride stared at the metamorphosis the spirit had just undergone.

It had mesmerised her, causing her to forget her purpose for a

moment. This newcomer radiated power, and feeling the energy had

entranced her - no longer.

She had caused Skeride to lose her prey.

She would not leave the graveyard.

Ukyou continued walking towards the gates of the cemetery.

"Where do you think YOU'RE going?" came a voice. Ukyou looked

around, and soon found a girl of about sixteen in front of her.

The girl was dressed in a red and black body-suit and a high-school

jacket. There were dark lines under her violet eyes and a streak of white

in her hair. At her side was a ornately carved dagger with a very sharp-

looking blade. Something about the girl was familiar, but Ukyou couldn't

quite pinpoint it.

If it weren't for the fact that she could see her, she would have

guessed the girl was alive.

"That's none of your business," Ukyou responded icily. "Get out of

my way. I don't have time for this."

"I'm afraid it is my business." the girl replied, just as coldly.

She pointed a finger at Ukyou. "You don't belong here."

Ukyou's frown deepened. "Who were you?"

"My name IS Gosunkugi Skeride." The emphasis on the verb's tense was

unequivocal. She WAS alive. And a descendant of HIKARU'S?!? "And you are

a ghost that needs to be put to rest."

Ukyou laughed.

"No rest for the weary, dear. Try again next century. Now, if you

don't mind, I have something I have to do, and I really MUST be going."

"That's too bad," said Skeride. "I was so hoping you'd stay..."

A nasty-looking purple glow begin to form around the girls hands. The only

other times she'd seen that kind of effect was when Ranma or Ryouga were

about to perform one of their ultimate attacks. In either case, it meant

trouble. Ukyou's danger sense told her to get out of there, and she

listened. She spun on her heel and began hightailing it in the opposite

direction.

Skeride looked up and saw her new target fleeing. The predatory

smile returned.

This night might yet prove... Entertaining. 

Ukyou risked a glance backwards. The Gosunkugi was still behind her.

I've got to ditch this psycho. She allowed herself a grim smile at her

choice of words, and touched her fingers instinctively to where the name

tag had been on her ward-room garb.

She dashed around the corner of a shrine, knelt down and listened

carefully to Skeride's footfalls on the snow.

After a moment, they stopped. The ex-chef risked a look outside her

hiding place. The girl's footprints came up to about five feet before

the shrine, and then just... stopped. Ukyou's frown returned. The last set

of footprints were side by side and seemed to skid somewhat. There were

no other prints be seen, which meant-

Ukyou rolled out of the way just as Skeride's p'ur-bu came down and

buried itself, blade first, in the ground. Ukyou glared for a moment at

the Gosunkugi (who was crouching on top of the monument), then took off

again.

"Run all you like," Skeride called. "I'll catch you eventually!"

She doesn't have to sound so bloody cheerful about it, thought

Ukyou, but she's right. Miller didn't tell me what I could do to

protect myself. Maybe he didn't know about her... 

Miller's answer to her question about just preventing Sable from

being created came back to her.

We can't do that, because we'd have to eliminate the person

we're trying to protect from him. Free will's a bitch sometimes...

No kidding, pal. If only she had her combat spatula, then

she'd at least have a ghost of a chance.

Her right hand went over her shoulder instinctively, all the

while knowing that nothing would be there.

Which is why she was surprised when a familiar weight slapped

into her palm. She pulled and was greeted by the sight of a ki-based

replica of her old weapon. She acquired a predatory grin of her own.

The tables had turned.

Skeride stopped to get her bearings. The spirit had led her to

the part of the cemetery with the Millennial Crypts. These were where the

ancestors of all the REALLY old families in Tokyo were buried. Skeride

looked around for the telltale aura of her prey.

"Hey, Gosunkugi!"

Skeride spun, looking for the source of the voice.

"If you want me, you'll have to come get me!"

Skeride looked ahead of her and saw an open crypt emitting a glow from

within it. A pink glow. She secured the p'ur-bu on her belt and entered

the crypt.

Ukyou waited a moment, allowing Skeride to stumble in the dark for a

few moments before emerging from her hiding place. The Gosunkugi jumped

back and threw a hand across her eyes as the pink light poured in.

"Surprise." Ukyou said. There were three flashes of light. Skeride,

still trying to blink the spots out of her eyes, dove for the floor,

banging her chin as she did so. Ukyou vanished around the corner.

The Assassin sat up, angry at herself for being taken so easily. She

turned to look at the three throwing spatulas that were embedded in the

wall behind here, glowing with ki. Skeride vaguely remembered hearing

something about a spatula in one of her history classes, but couldn't

quite remember...

Snap out of it! she told herself. She got to her feet and

followed the fading light.

Nonetheless, she couldn't shake the feeling that this ghost was out of

the ordinary. Normally, ki-objects dissolved as soon as they left their

owners.

The culinary darts still glowed brightly when she left them.

Ukyou dashed down the maze of passageways. She figured she must be

underground. This particular family was huge and apparently did some great

things as there was only one urn in the alcoves along the walls. Honouring

the family member with his or her own wall - a luxury undreamed of in

crowded, overpopulated Tokyo. Even the living had to scramble for a

square foot or two, and to devote so much space to the DEAD...

Her curiosity overcame here and she risked a look at the family

name on the next urn she passed.

Takahashi.

She continued to run. She dashed passed more urns and more halls and

rooms. She was pretty sure she had successfully doubled back to the

entrance of the crypt.

Until she reached the dead end.

Skeride turned the corner and found her prey staring at the wall

behind her with disbelief. Skeride's smile returned. The end of the chase.

She began to concentrate.

Ukyou whirled around, danger sense acting up again, to see Skeride at

the other end of the passage. The purple glow was back.

Well, screw it. Hib-- Kuonji Ukyou wasn't going down without a

fight.

She raised the combat spatula and charged forward.

"TAMASHII WARA AWA!"

Ukyou was hit head-on with the force of the attack and was sent

sailing through the wall at the opposite end of the passage. Skeride

dashed back down to an intersection and went down the passage to her

right. She followed it around a few corners and found herself in the

room behind the passage they had just been in.

Ukyou was laying on the floor of the crypt, suffused in the purple

field. But instead of shrinking, as Skeride had expected it to do, it

appeared to just immobilise the ghost.

Plan B, then, thought the teenager. She pulled the p'ur-bu from

her belt and knelt beside the prone ghost. Ukyou looked at her with

unbridled hatred.

"Any last words?" asked Skeride, as she raised the dagger for the

kill.

"Go to Hell," said Ukyou.

Skeride smirked.

"It's too late for that. There's neither Hell nor Heaven for you

now."

Smiling, she slashed Ukyou's throat.

Ukyou screamed as the blade bit into her remembered flesh, the pain

coursing through the core of her being. It was worse than death. She

remembered death; that was... Agonising, but surmountable. This? This

was immeasurably worse. It was the pain of being undone, of having her

very soul annihilated, so no trace of her would remain. A red light began

to pour from the path of the blade. It glowed and pulsed, the red

spreading over her body, enveloping her in a suffocating cloud. Ukyou's

screams were lost as the crimson cloud began to fade.

Soon, all that was left in the crypt were the urns and Skeride.

The Assassin rose to her feet, stuck the p'ur-bu back in her belt,

dusted off her jacket and began to find her way out of the crypt.

Go to Hell, indeed, she thought. Bloody Christians. 

"Dammit!" Miller cursed. He slammed down the phone and stared at the

grey-suited Asian woman across from him.

"Gosunkugi Skeride got her. She's in limbo."

"Should I make the reclamation arrangements?"

"No," Miller said, glaring at the phone. "Orders. Kuonji Ukyou stays

there until we need her again."

"Orders? Whose orders? The Three?"

Miller shook his head and fixed his colleague with a cold stare.

"Higher."

"You mean-?"

"Yes."

"Then aren't we-?"

"Using her like OnoCorp used her? You betcha."

"So, what do we do?"

Miller looked at the book on his desk, picked it up and dropped it

into the waste-basket next to his desk.

"Nothing."

On her way out of the cemetery, Skeride paused at the ruined

gravestone. Her curiosity had not left her, and so she knelt down and

began to pick through the rubble. After some time, she found a dusty

fragment with the name of the person buried there. The given name was

charred and unreadable, but the first two characters of the family name

revealed themselves with a little polishing.

Skeride's eyes widened in shock.

HI BI

The realisation of what she had just done caused her stomach to go

queasy. She closed her eyes and began to weep.

"Reiraku, I'm so sorry..."

Somewhere, in complete darkness illuminated only by her own aura,

Kuonji Ukyou opened her eyes.

There was nothing to see, no sounds to hear, no scents to smell.

Nothing but her own glow. She held up her hands, and as they passed her

throat, she saw them bathed in a red light.

Ukyou unwrapped the ribbons from her hands and held them together.

Summoning her will, she fused the two halves together and transformed the

ribbon into a delicate white scarf.

She wrapped the cloth around her neck, blocking the red glow, then

concentrated more until her ki-aura faded, leaving her in total darkness.

When that was done, she drew her knees up under her chin and clasped

her arms around them.

And time began seriously to pass...

BEGIN VENDETTA


	22. A Winter's Tale

**A WINTER'S TALE **

--

"I wear the chains I forged in life; I made them, link by link."

-Charles Dickens, "A Christmas Carol"

"Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are the pearls that were his eyes; Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange."

-William Shakespeare, "The Tempest", Act I Scene 2

--

**Tokyo: The Kunou Foundation - December 14, 2095 - Friday **

Nabiki Tendo awoke, or so she thought...

The world around her half-closed eyes was puzzling, a swirling eddy of blurred and unfamiliar images, in which she floated stationarily. She tried to turn, to gather more of where she was, but none of her limbs would recognise her mind's authority. Even her eyelids would not wander from their current state, but chose instead to stay ajar, and taunt her with the fragments of that she would have whole.

"Sire; the subject is awake."

"Already? Very well. Sedate her, and then prep her for interrogation."

"As you will, sire."

Sounds... Voices? She couldn't be sure... What had happened? How had she come to... Where? Nabiki strained herself, and tried to think, and to remember. In this, at least, she did not fail. Recall Nabiki did, and wished that she had not.

_Deity, _she thought. _Not this. _Before a tear could form, the chemicals took hold, and 'the subject' once again lapsed into darkness.

"You've checked the brain?"

"Aye, Sire."

"Enough of the original so that we may say this is THE Nabiki Tendo?"

"Over ninety-five percent, Sire, and none of the lost areas are in the mnemonic regions."

"Good. How are her muscles? She hasn't moved in a few decades, after all..."

"They're rather weak; I doubt she can use them without help. Once we initialise the bionics, though, she should be fully operational."

"Perfect. Drain the tank, dress her, and have her in my office by 2100. Leave the dampers on. I want her revived only at the beginning of our interview."

"As you will, Sire."

With rehearsed motions, three men in identical white uniforms moved to the tank where the reconstructed body of Nabiki Tendo was floating in an electrolytic soup. One pressed a button, and a harness wrapped itself around her. A flip of a switch, and the fluid oozed out through a grate. Then, the tank's clear plastic walls came down, and the functionaries took the woman to the room where she'd be clothed.

--

**Tokyo: Kunou Hall December 15, 2095 - Saturday, 5:32 PM **

Childra Jansen checked herself over once more in the washroom mirror. Her dyed blonde hair had been put back in a bun, her eyelids were done in a faint purple, and the only lipstick she'd dared put on was a dull red. Apart from that, only a little blush. Overall, the effect was rather... proper...

She hoped she'd done it right. This wasn't how she usually went out. She looked at the clothes. They should be sombre enough. A prudish black dress covered her from neck to heels, and an equally dark cloak was over her shoulders to protect her from the cold. It would do. She always felt awkward doing this... Never mind that all her friends EXPECTED her at these events; Childra always felt out-of-place, like a self-invited guest at a private party.

Oh, well. No more time for whining. Someone was waiting for her, and it wouldn't be polite to delay her departure any longer. Smacking her lips together one last time to make sure the gloss held, she closed her cosmetics bag and opened the door into the hallway.

Kim Thompson was there, reclining against a wall and poring over what looked like some dreadfully difficult mathematical work. Kim looked up from her studies as she noticed her neighbour's emergence.

"Going somewhere?" she asked. Childra just smiled at her. Thompson smacked herself on the forehead. "Silly me. Saturday night. Of COURSE you're going out. Who is it this time?"

"You don't know her."

Kim blinked. "HER? Childra, I never knew you..."

Jansen sighed. "I CAN do something other than a rendezvous with my nights, you know."

"Sorry..."

Childra grinned. "But TOMORROW night, it'll be that guy from Archaeology."

"I knew it! Anyway, have fun!"

"I will..." With that, she stepped into her room to pick up her purse and drop off her make-up, then left for the main entrance to Kunou Hall.

--

**Tokyo: The Kunou Foundation December 14, 2095 - Friday **

--

At 20:59:59, Nabiki was seated in a chair opposite the desk of the director of the Kunou Foundation. A second later, she came back to consciousness.

"Nabiki Tendo?" The voice was gruff, but cultured.

"Where am I?"

"First, you will answer me. Your name?"

"Ten... Tendo Nabiki... You just said it... Why..."

"Good. Now, to answer your question, I am the director of the Kunou Foundation, of whom you are a 'guest', at present."

"Kunou Foundation? But..."

The director waved a hand to silence her. "That's all you need to know, for now. But I still need to know a few more things... You've gone through some rather interesting... experiences... I need to ascertain that all is well. Let's start with your memories. What do you last remember?"

"I... I..." Nabiki began to cry. The memories were painful. And the last ones... She had finished all of this, had she not? Then why? She started, and looked wide-eyed at the director. "I killed myself. That's the last thing I remember." The man smiled.

"Not quite. You can't get away THAT easily, you know."

"I don't..."

"Oh, but you DO. We know all about your crime, Ms. Tendo. And you DO realise, that if you ARE guilty, something of that magnitude demands the death penalty." They KNEW? But then, why wasn't she... It made no sense.

"H-hai... But... I thought I had destroyed myself. Why am I still alive?"

"We couldn't let you get away THAT easily! The guilty MUST be punished. Granted, your little bomb made it a nightmare for our squad to put you back together, but we managed it." Another smile. "Eventually."

"You mean... I did die?"

"Clinically, yes. But we got to your brain before it had a chance to even begin to decompose. Well, we got to ninety-five percent of it, in any case."

"Ninety-five? I'm not understanding much of this..."

"The other five percent has been replaced by microcomputers." Nabiki blinked. This was surreal... The director sighed. "I suppose I'll have to spell it out for you. It's too bad, in a way... With your reputation for intelligence, I felt sure you would figure it out."

Before Nabiki could protest, he continued. "I am sure I have no reason to go over your crime. You know it well enough, and the Consistency Trial will be sure to extract all the gruesome details... I've been following your case for decades..."

Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "Yes. Decades. It's 2095. December, 2095." The other eyebrow. "Don't look so surprised! You think we could have brought you back with your own time's technology?"

"Why bring me back? If I'm guilty, and the crime has the death penalty, why couldn't you just let me be?"

"My dear Ms. Tendo," smiled the director, "we are not barbarians, who simply dole out merits and demerits according impersonal behavioural codes set down in a book... Our 'laws' are now much more humane... Even in your time, I am sure, you would have heard of the 'Consistency Movement'?" Nabiki's face, already grim, sank even lower.

"Not that... Anything but that..." Written rules she could deal with. She'd always gotten ahead in life by twisting, bending and re- interpreting the legal codes to suit her purposes. That was easy. They were generalisations, meant to cover many misdoings by many people, making it easy for a single person to weasel her way out of a single crime. But THESE - These were different.

"That is how we deal with criminals in 2095. You are only guilty of a crime if your actions violate your own behavioural ethic." Individual rules, tailored for and by the accused. There was nowhere to hide, no way to modify or capitalise on ambiguity when the rules were the ones that you had written in your heart. And right now, those rules screamed out her guilt.

"I am guilty... I am..." 'Ms. Tendo' said softly, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"To establish that is beyond my jurisdiction. The Consistency Trial will deal with it... Even if you are guilty, we do not have 'set' punishments... We apply use what YOU believe to be an appropriate reprisal... Now, far more than in Dickens's time, 'You wear the chains you forged in life'."

"But I TOLD YOU! I KILLED MYSELF!" She HAD inflicted her own punishment upon herself. An eye for an eye, that's what she'd always thought, and when the time came, that'd been what she'd applied. "I'll even tell you how I did it! I..."

"Oh, we know all about the bomb, Ms. Tendo. One cannot work on you for so many years and not know what it was that caused the trouble in the first place."

"Isn't it OBVIOUS? I KNEW what I'd done, and I KNEW that the only appropriate penalty was DEATH! Why didn't you just let me BE?"

"It seems you would prefer to be stone-cold right now, instead of facing me." A smile, and twinkle of his eyes.

"Oh, deity, yes!" That much she couldn't deny. ANYTHING was better than to have to face... THIS again. Cripes. Even in her THOUGHTS, she couldn't bring herself to think directly of it. Yes, death was certainly better than a living hell.

"Then, clearly, it is not half the punishment you are trying to convince me that it is. If you are guilty, Ms. Tendo, you deserve to suffer. And suffer A LOT. I will be frank, and tell you that I find you utterly despicable. Were you another person, with a different history, I would have long ago stopped the project short and left you dead. But, as the saying goes, 'Death is too good for you'. You will pay for what you did, Nabiki Tendo. And, what is more, you will be put through pain that only you yourself can contrive the likes of. Once THAT is done, I'll think well-spent the years and funds that went into your reconstruction. The guilty WILL be punished."

Halfway through the speech, Nabiki had lost whatever control she had, and had become a sobbing, pulsing mass.

"Why do you hate me?" she asked through salty lips. "I know what I've done, and I hate MYSELF for it, but why do THIS? Why take me from the GRAVE, when I don't even KNOW you?"

The director looked at his watch. "Only four minutes before the trial. Very well, I will humour you." A pause. "I am not only the Director of the Kunou Foundation." Nabiki arched an eyebrow. "I am also Ono Tanaro, president of Onocorp."

"Ono... You are..." Wide eyes from her, a nod from him.

"For having destroyed the life of Tendo Kasumi, you will pay."

--

**Tokyo: Nerima Graveyard December 15, 2095 - Saturday, 6:11 PM **

--

Akane sat on a bench and looked at the setting sun. Childra should be here soon. She was looking forward to that. She still didn't know why she had asked her to come... It wasn't like anything was going to HAPPEN... Still, it made her feel better to have company tonight. It made her feel better to have company ANY night, but particularly on this one.

It was so FRUSTRATING, to be able to wander around at leisure, see what happened to everything and everyone, but not be able to interact with it. She could rant, or laugh, or cry, or scream, and it would have less of an effect on those surrounding her than the falling of a leaf. Of course, there were the other spirits, but they were all so melancholy... So was she, when she thought about it. It's a wonder Childra spent any time with her at ALL, the way she whined, and even more of one that she usually came for at least an hour a day.

Not only that, but she'd given her something of a home. She was always welcome to visit Jansen in her room, (Well, except, perhaps, on certain Saturday nights...) and even ENCOURAGED to follow her around to all her lectures... She used to go to a lot more of those. They were nice; it was pleasant to hear all those stories from history... Unfortunately, she'd had to give up on quite a few of them when Gosunkugi Skeride showed up. Imagine, having a descendant of Hikaru's actually being able to do magic that WORKED.

That idea was enough to send chills down the spine of anyone who knew the original five-inch, but the worst part was that she was dead-set on putting ghosts 'to rest'... Her current state might not be much, but it was certainly better than the nothingness she felt that heaven had in store for her, should she be exorcised.

Exorcised. She'd never thought that'd she'd be frightened of the word. Things change. A lot.

The sun had fallen to a mere sliver above the horizon, and the red and orange hues of sunset were giving way to twilight's blue and purple haze, the darkness driving Akane back into reality from her meditations. She looked in front of her. Two collective tombs: the Tendos and Saotomes, side by side. Somewhere under the memorial on the right, her own ashes were buried in a ceramic urn, while the one on the left...

"Oh, Ranma..." She cried as fully as a ghost can cry, with luminous tears of pure vital essence replacing the salt water of the living.

"Started without me?" A voice from behind her. A familiar one.

"Childra?"

"Who else, lass? Unless Nutkin's showed up, I doubt anyone else would be addressing you." They smiled.

"Hai," said Akane. "Thank you for coming."

"I wouldn't miss it," said Childra softly. She pulled a white tube from under her cloak.

"What's that?" asked Akane.

"A memorial for you, on your death-day."

"Childra... I..."

Jansen took the top off the cardboard cylinder, and pulled out a single, perfect black rose. "It's a Hampton clone. I thought that..." Akane shuddered. "What is it, girl? Is something wrong?"

The ghost smiled weakly. "No... It's just... I... I've had bad experiences with black roses."

"I'm sorry... I had no idea..."

"It's all right. I'm glad you thought of it. Really."

"Well... If you're SURE it's all right... Shall we?" Childra offered her arm.

"Just a minute," grinned Akane. "I've got to change into something more appropriate." She closed her eyes and shimmered slightly, then her blue-and-yellow pastel dress turned into black mourning clothes, complete with veil.

"Now." She took Childra's arm - very slowly, to make sure she didn't go through it - and the two walked carefully together to the Tendo monument. They knelt in front of the obelisk, and Jansen placed the rose in front of Akane's name. The sun finished setting, and the sky grew black.

--

**Tokyo: The Kunou Foundation December 14, 2095 - Friday **

--

Nabiki examined Director Ono. He had Dr. Tofu's eyes, now that she thought of it, and Kasumi's general features. She probably hadn't noticed it before because she had been too busy trying to make sense of his grandiloquent speeches. Being the director of the Kunou Foundation seems to have taken its toll...

They continued to look at each other, motionless and silent. The lack of conversation was not due to want of content, but rather, to its excess... How could she possibly explain to this man why she had acted as she did? How could she summarise and cram into some scant four minutes thoughts, debates, and judgements that'd been swimming in her mind for what were relatively aeons? How could she justify herself to him when she had not yet done that for herself? There were far too many questions for one answer to be made...

A buzzer rang, and then a voice came from a hidden speaker.

"Sire, the trial room is ready."

"Excellent. We will be there shortly." He turned to Nabiki. "Get up, Ms. Tendo, and follow me."

Nabiki tried to stand, but couldn't. "My legs..."

"Oh, dear! I'd QUITE forgotten! Tsk, tsk... Such an oversight..." He pressed a button on the desk. "Activate the bionics for Ms. Tendo."

"Aye Sire," came the reply.

"Bionics?"

"Come, now, you don't think we reconstructed you with ORGANICS, do you? We might have made a lot of progress in the last seventy years, but we still can't regenerate nerve tissue, and cloned eyes are EVER so unreliable..."

"How much?"

"The monetary figures would mean nothing to you, but let's just say you couldn't have afforded it even in your prime." Nabiki scowled. Would her reputation follow her even HERE? "I MEANT, how extensive are the replacements?"

"I wouldn't worry about it. If all goes as planned, you won't be using them for long."

_I hope not,_ she said to herself._ To live in a world where Kasumi is..._ She put away the thought. She had already shown far too much weakness. The only thing left to do was confess, get this over with as quickly as possible, and go back to her eternal rest. If she was going to die a second time, it was going to be with dignity, not tears.

"But, to answer your question..." The director smiled. "As I've already mentioned, five percent of your brain has been replaced by microcomputers. Not to worry, it's mostly the primordial areas having to do with simple motions, habitual actions, and the like... THOSE we replace quite routinely now, actually, thanks to the research we've done on you... You've been quite a boon to medical science, Ms. Tendo." Nabiki arched an eyebrow. "Yes... I wouldn't expect a ruthless entrepreneur like yourself to think we'd let all that R&D go to waste... Onocorp is now one of the three largest prosthetics companies in the world."

Nabiki snorted. "It'd better be, with the amount of cash it must've taken to gather me up and stitch me together. Who DID it, anyway? The consistency movement wasn't THAT big seventy years ago..."

Tanaro smiled. "Your antics made my grandfather quite angry, Ms. Tendo. Dr. Ono Tofu paid for all the expenses himself, after his wife's death... It sent him into debt and penury, but assured my mother and myself the places in high society which we now enjoy. Of course, he couldn't do it ALL on his own.. When Kunou-sensei first became politically prominent, my honourable ancestor was quite influential in establishing the Kunou Foundation, as well as laying the basis for what would become Onocorp. Ironic, that all this should come about from hatred of yourself."

Another one of those disconcerting grins. _Like a fox playing with a chicken, _thought Nabiki. _But DOCTOR TOFU?_ He just didn't seem like the type...

"The Dr. Tofu I knew was sweet... Rather crazy at times, but certainly not the kind of person to help found a thing like this... I... I just find it hard to believe that..."

Tanaro's face hardened. "Ono Kasumi's death was an incredible blow to him, and changed him utterly..." he said. "You KNEW him, and presumably were aware of his infatuation." He raised a questioning eyebrow. Nabiki nodded in assent. "After the death he became a changed man... I remember him only as bitter, cold, silent, and determined..."

"Determined?"

"To make you pay for your crime. He LOVED Kasumi. She was the most important thing in his life. Together with my mother, they WERE his life. And YOU.. YOU took that away from him." Nabiki turned away. "So you understand... The only mention I have of ojiisan being warm is from old-timers, like yourself. Anyone who met him AFTER the incident would never use that word in the same sentence as his name." The director chuckled. "Other children's grandparents taught them how to fish; mine taught me how to hate. Both he and my mother would drill me, day after day, in the need to have you punished, to make you FEEL their pain, and that of Kasumi-sama." A ring from the intercom. "Yes?"

"Sire, bionics will be operational in two minutes. I apologise for the delay."

"Quite all right; quite all right... I've waited all my life; a few more minutes won't hurt. Carry on."

"Aye, Sire."

"Now, where were we?"

"Hate," said Nabiki. She still couldn't believe it. The Doctor - cold and bitter? And all due to her... For the first time in her life, she was experiencing true regret, and she wasn't enjoying it.

"That will be MORE than aptly covered at your trial, I am sure," said the director. "I would LOVE to go on.."

_I'll bet he would,_ thought Nabiki,

"...But we don't have much time." Tanaro finished, "I suggest we focus on the technical aspects of the situations. Do you have any questions about the implants?"

"The brain," said Nabiki. She had to know exactly how much they'd tampered with her. "What have you changed in my brain?"

"Oh, yes... THAT... There's no reason to complain about it. You wouldn't BELIEVE how many people come to us to have that kind of surgery... Pilots, surgeons, anyone who needs to do things accurately and precisely, in fact... The new habitual motion areas allow for the creation of what we like to call 'physical macros', and the others let one do wonderful things with speed reading, and... Oh, but I haven't the time to go into that... Maybe I'll have one of our sales reps explain it to you before your execution."

"What happened to 'innocent until proven guilty'?"

"That only applies if you are innocent, ne, Mademoiselle Tendo?"

"Touche." A weak smile. "Anything ELSE I should know about?"

"Not much. Your eyes, nervous system, most bones, right arm, left leg, and heart have all been replaced. Your innards have been cloned from your genetic material, and engineered to be in sync with your prosthetics... Oh, yes! Your biochem's synthetic... Apart from that, nothing I can think of."

"I see..." A red light blinked to life next to the desk. "They're ready for us. Get up, Ms. Tendo."

She did, and was mildly surprised not to hear the sounds of whizzing gears and expanding pistons. Tanaro Ono also stood, and motioned to the door. They left. The corridors looked like a hospitals'. White. Antiseptic. Cold. Nabiki had a fundamental distrust of things that seemed this clean and pure, but she had to admit it was an appropriate setting for her final judgement.

"How far?" she asked.

"Just a few more doors." When they finally arrived, the dreaded portal ended up being just another innocuous-looking standard-make door. The only thing that distinguished it from any other was its number: 416. The director pulled a key-card out of his breast pocket and slipped it into the appropriate spot. The door slid open with a soft hiss. The interior of the room was nothing like what Nabiki had expected. There were no juror's benches, no audience chairs, no television cameras, advocate's boxes...

In fact, all there was, was a desk, a computer terminal, two old wooden chairs and one plastic-and-metal chair-like contraption. As for people, only one young man in a white lab-coat stood in a corner, holding a medical bag.

"Is this IT?"

"I'm afraid so, Ms. Tendo."

"I don't understand... Where are the lawyers? Jurors? JUDGE?" The director's eyes twinkled as he smiled.

"Have you been paying attention? We ARE a consistency court. You are your own advocate, prosecutor and judge. I am merely here as... Court stenographer. Yes, that is quite the proper analogy."

"Sire," the man in the lab coat spoke up. "Is she ready to be prepped?"

"Go ahead." The underling nodded.

"What? 'Prepped'? I don't..."

"You may explain, Jonathan. I'm sure you'll do a better job than I could."

"Thank-you, Sire." A bow. Then, to Nabiki. "It used to be that consistency trials took a long time... A speciality team would spend months, or years doing research into every aspect of the accused's life to come up with an accurate picture of his or her moral code, and would then determine in an old-fashioned trial whether the plaintiff was guilty according to said code."

_Even Kunou-chan's speeches were better than this freak's... _thought Nabiki to herself. _I suppose it is part of my punishment... _

"Thanks to the technology developed for your reconstruction, we can now do away with the Consistency Squads. We merely put the appropriate machinery into the accused's head, and link them directly to a computer. As the subjects speak, their thoughts are displayed in visual format on the monitor, as seen by 'the mind's eye'."

"You've rehearsed this, haven't you?" Nabiki asked.

"Many times, Ms. Tendo." he answered.

"You frighten me..." She took a deep breath. The sooner they started... "Plug me in, then. I want this finished." The attendant motioned to the metallic chair, and Nabiki sat on it. Straps were tightened over her wrists and ankles, and then... "A syringe? What's that for?" She grimaced. "Don't tell me they give the lethal injection BEFORE the verdict's out, now."

"Lethal injection?" The director looked at her. "We wouldn't be that lenient. That would cause at most a moment's pain, after all... No, Ms. Tendo, this is just some valium and Demerol... To loosen the tongue."

"I'll talk anyway. No need to prick me." The attendant paused.

"We want to make sure. Proceed, Jonathan."

Jonathan nodded and began to inject the serum into Nabiki's left arm. The needle bent.

"That's her prosthetic, Jonathan. I'm sorry. I should have warned you."

"It's quite all right, Sire. I have replacements." He tossed the used syringe into a nearby waste-bin, and took a new one from his bag. This time, the solution went into Nabiki's left arm without incident. It was only a short time before she began to feel disoriented and light-headed.

"The drugs are quite strong, so I doubt you'll be able to keep track of the outside world. Don't worry about it... Just concentrate on my questions, and your memories." Nabiki nodded. Her vision was beginning to blur...

"Jonathan?"

"Yes, Sire?"

"She seems to be going under. Connect her."

"Yes, Sire." He reached for the back of Nabiki's head and pulled loose a hair-covered panel. To the now-exposed circuitry, he hooked up one end of the cable, and connected the other end to the computer. "Done, Sire."

"Good." Nabiki frowned. The voices were sounding... Strange... More or less like when she woke up from a Saturday afternoon nap, in the early evening, and heard her sisters speaking around her... Her sisters...

"Sire? The subject is crying."

"She must be thinking about the crime in question. On-screen." Jonathan flipped a switch. The monitor flickered for a few seconds, then showed shifting pictures of Akane, Nabiki and Kasumi... All three of them at the beach, three young girls with their mother... The screen zoomed into Mrs. Tendo's face, which morphed into that of Kasumi.

"Interesting... This puts quite a new slant on the case..."

Then, a sudden shift to a graveyard scene. The Tendo family was standing in the rain around a freshly-dug grave. The perspective moved to the front of the memorial stone, where the name of Nabiki's mother was clearly visible. Another pan-out from the tombstone, to a changed scene. It was still a burial, but this time, it was the youngest Tendo.. Akane? Who was being laid to rest. Nabiki was beside the coffin, crying... She lifted the lid, and inside was Kasumi Tendo's body. Nabiki screamed. She screamed, as on the screen her elder sister's corpse reached out to hug her... Always forgiving her... Even for THIS... The screams grew louder.

"Sire? What shall I do?"

"Direct mike, please."

"As you will, sire." Jonathan handed Director Ono a microphone which was also connected to the computer.

"Is it on?"

"Hai." Jonathan blushed. "I mean... Yes, Director Ono."

Tanaro smiled. "No need to be so formal when it's only the two of us." He winced as another scream erupted from the chair. Clutching the mike, he spoke: "Nabiki? Can you hear me, Tendo Nabiki?"

Silence. Then, a nod from 'Ms. Tendo'.

"Good. I will guide you, Nabiki. I will ask you questions, and you will answer me. Do you understand?" Nod. "Very well."

The director opened a manila folder on a nearby monitor-top, and leafed through its contents until he found the information he was looking for. "First, I will ask you to remember something. Think back to just after the death of your younger sister's fiance... The death of Ranma."

The director's voice transported Nabiki, sending her back through the years, back to the dismal winter following Ranma's death. THAT is what had started it all. Her mother's passing had been traumatic, but at least she had been left with FAMILY. Kasumi, Daddy, and Akane... But after that BAKA got himself killed... What business of his was it anyway, to go to China on some macho 'training trip'? If it wasn't for that curse of his, Chia would've never come back looking for his mate, and then... Nabiki STILL couldn't believe here sister had LOVED that pile of muscle. Sure, they'd joked about it often enough, but no one actually believed it. Except perhaps for Daddy.

And then, she up and threw herself off that bridge when Ranma died. Always picking a fight. That's what had gotten him into trouble. Men... As if it wasn't enough to get HIMSELF killed, he had to drag OTHERS down into the abyss with him! Typical male reaction. Selfish. Unthinking. Nabiki laughed to herself. MALE reaction? Even as a WOMAN, he caused trouble...

Jonathan stared at the pictures forming n the screen. "Sire? That boy... He's... Turning into a girl... Isn't he?"

The director nodded. "Jusenkyo curse. We have references for it."

"The legends are TRUE?"

"Only within these walls, if you want to stay alive."

"H-hai.."

She'd finally found SOMEONE she had a chance with - a man who actually CARED for her, FAWNED on her... Sure, he was a bit... dense... but that was a minor fault when put against his other charms. But, of COURSE Kunou-baby had to fall in love with the 'pig-tailed goddess'. Feh. Some goddess. More like a demon in disguise. When he heard of his beloved's disappearance, and of Akane's death, his other little quirk kicked into place. When he wasn't drooling over some girl or another, he tended to slobber over HIMSELF. Naturally, he assumed the two had killed themselves independently of each other, so he wouldn't have to choose between them.

And of COURSE his Samurai code just HAD to point out to him that the honourable thing to do was to become a monk, and live in quiet reflection of the 'nobility' of those two. Damn those vows of chastity. She'd been so close, until that baka got himself slaughtered...

"Sire, who IS this? I thought she was just some criminal, but... She was Tatewaki Kunou's GIRLFRIEND? I don't see how we can still go on, if that's the case."

Director Ono frowned. "Why not?"

"Permission to speak freely, Sire?"

Tanaro nodded. "Granted."

"Kunou-sensei is a hero! He brought peace, started the consistency courts... And we ARE the Kunou Foundation. How can we kill one whom he cared for? With all due respect, sire, should we really go on with this?"

"We WILL go on, Jonathan. With you, or without you. If you value your job, and your well-being, you will stay mum and follow orders."

The assistant trembled. "As... As you will, Sire."

The next big blow was Daddy's death. He didn't last too long, with both heirs to the 'Anything-Goes' school gone. With all those passings, and Kasumi's marriage to Dr. Tofu, Nabiki was once again left alone. Of course, 'oneechan' would never turn her away, and would always be ready with a tray of cookies and a listening ear when she needed one, but it wasn't the same... Nabiki had lost her home. She'd tried to replace family life with entrepeneuring, but even THAT couldn't fill the gap she felt inside... She'd lost her family to death, and the only member who remained had started one of her own.

Kasumi had a daughter, already. It always cheered Nabiki to see her... Little Bell was so sweet... The perfect combination of her older sister's tenderness and Dr. Tofu's rugged handsomeness... Not that she was so little, anymore. Bell had turned into quite the young woman... Quite a fortunate one, too, with a set of caring parents and a stable home.

"Hmm... She seems to be slipping back INTO the time, rather than just remembering it..." Ono stroked his chin. "Good. We can probably get more information that way."

Having the doctor's household so close to her only served to remind Nabiki of her loss, and she devoted herself heart and soul to her enterprises.

"Yes, Nabiki." spoke the director into the mike. "That's it... Tell us about your business..."

Business... The money she had made over the years, selling pictures of her sister to Kunou and blackmailing others had allowed her to buy some very profitable stocks. In just a few years, she had risen to the ownership of a large Security company. She always found that amusing... Her securities were what had allowed her to take control of Universal Security Equipment, Inc...

The director twisted a few knobs on the computer's controls. He'd better log this. They were getting close to the target.

"And how did that company do?" _Prod gently_, he thought to himself. _Don't want to overshoot the mark. _

The company did well... For a time... While it was expanding, taking care of it filled Nabiki's vacant hours, and occupied her thoughts, which would otherwise be filled with depression and loss... Once it stabilised, however (and it stabilised SOON. Nabiki was too adept at business for her own good), it ceased to keep her busy, and she needed another project. Real estate...

"Real estate? What real estate?"

In response to the question, a fuzzy picture of about twenty Tokyo city blocks appeared on the computer screen. Nabiki held the deeds to all the land around the abandoned Tendo Dojo for a radius of two kilometres. She had bought these while the property was worthless, but as Nerima grew, it had transformed (as she had predicted all along, of course) into prime real estate. Even the Ono clinic/residence belonged to her, at least technically...

When the doctor had run into some monetary difficulties, she had 'bought' the property off of him and covered its mortgage, leaving him with live-in rights, and everything, in fact, but actual ownership.

"My, my... That was unusually kind of you, Ms. Tendo. You took control of his property, and didn't even kick him out on the street? Most kind." The comment made Nabiki frown, even in her delirious state. _Better be careful, _thought Tanaro. _Don't want to break the link... _"I apologise for the interruption. Go on... You had plans for that land, did you not? Tell me about them..."

Plans... Of course she had plans! Great ones... Nerima had a lot now. Lawyers, doctors, dentists and such found it an optimal area to set up their practices, but as of yet there wasn't much in the way of shopping malls, or recreational complexes... With the land she had, and the money from USE, she could build one... It would help everyone, make life more pleasant... But...

"But?"

Most of the land was no problem. Only Nabiki ever used the dojo, so demolishing it would not present a difficulty. As for the rest, in planning this she had allowed her tenants' leases to expire, then had refused to renew the contracts... No one lived there now, except...

"Jonathan, take secondary notes. We're almost there."

"Aye, Sire."

The Tofu clinic, still booming, was right in the middle of the property. She had approached the couple (subtly, of course) about moving to a more luxurious location she would pay for, but they had refused, arguing that the clinic had always been their married home... It looked like the plan would have to be given up, but if she gave up...

_If she'd given up, _thought Tanaro, _then she'd have had to face and deal with her pathetic life. I see... _

If she could find an excuse to demolish the place while they were gone, and then relocate them... It wouldn't harm them; she'd set them up in a beautiful condo... There wasn't a way, though. She couldn't destroy the property without their consent, or knowledge.

"But you DID, didn't you? How, Nabiki? How did you do it?" In the chair, Nabiki shifted uncomfortably. "Tell me, Nabiki. It is important."

She had... She had gotten an idea when she went to visit Ukyou in the Institute... The poor girl had gone mad after giving birth to Ryouga's son. The nurse had been telling Nabiki about how the ex-okonomiyaki chef had demolished half the town in her insanity. Then, she had commented on how they were fortunate it was the wife that had gone crazy, and not the husband...

If Ryouga was ever that depressed, his Shishi Houkodan or the 'Blasting Point Technique' would have probably inflicted a lot more damage. But Ryouga was still sane, wasn't he?

"And the Shishi Houkodan reminded you of something at USE, did it not?" Ono hated to prompt, but the drugs would begin to wear off soon, and they had to be through by then.

The Shishi Houkodan... At the security company, they would test new equipment by detonating small, government-approved bombs next to them in a desert area... Whenever she was present at one of those trials, Nabiki couldn't help but think of Ryouga's special attacks... The effects were nearly identical... On the screen, a picture of a bomb exploding, and the smoke clearing to reveal a spent Ryouga.

"I see..." said the Director. "You intended to frame Ryouga for the destruction of the clinic?"

Nabiki nodded. She would frame him, yes, but it was for the better good of Nerima... Besides, she could pay him back for any legal fees or bail charges after the profits started rolling in, and maybe even add a generous compensation bonus...

"And how, exactly, did you manage this?" On the chair, Nabiki began to sweat.

It had been all too easy... With his wife incarcerated, Ryouga had been an easy target for seduction. Nabiki smiled. The poor boy had been no match for her, when she tried to be appealing... One night was all she needed... She had the... 'genetic material' she had gathered cloned at the USE labs, until she had enough to legally place Hibiki at the blast site. The final touch was to fake a note, purportedly from Akane, blaming her suicide on her hatred of Ryouga.

The director turned his eyes away from the monitor. These were pictures he did NOT want to see.

"Oh, deity..." he muttered. He had known she was sick, but THIS...

Nabiki had waited until a day when Dr. Tofu and Kasumi had scheduled a trip to the beach, then she had set the cloned material, bomb and letter in Akane's old room at the dojo. In the early afternoon, she detonated the explosive... But... She hadn't known... She hadn't... WHY? WHY? WHY did Kasumi have to come back?

On the monitor, Kasumi returning for a forgotten item. Picnic basket? Beach towel? No one knew, and after the incident she was in no condition to tell... Then, a cycle of imagined pictures of 'oneechan' dying a thousand horrible deaths, as the walls of the clinic collapsed onto her, and the shock-wave burnt her flesh... Oh, deity. She hadn't known... When she found out, it was too much... To lose KASUMI. To lose her MOTHER, her FAMILY... She'd killed her... She'd...

Nabiki began to cry. After doing such a thing, she could not allow herself to live. How would she, after destroying everything that she lived FOR? She settled on a suicide - via bomb; it was the only proper way. Before that, of course, she left her affairs in order. All outstanding debts were paid, a luxury condominium was signed over to Dr. Tofu and Bell, and ownership of USE was transferred to Hibiki Ryouga. Hopefully, its wealth would be enough of a compensation for having put him in his present unfortunate position...

The director looked at the monitor. She HAD been thorough in settling her accounts, spiritually and otherwise... That was a problem... She had paid Ryouga back to the best of her ability, and submitted herself to the same fate she had put her sister through...

"Sire, the drugs are wearing off."

Tanaro turned to face the attendant. "It doesn't matter. We have enough. In point of fact, wake her up completely. There's been a... development..."

"Aye, Sire." He pulled another syringe out of the bag, and injected the sobbing Nabiki. She promptly stiffened up, and tried to mask her tears.

"You know?" she asked. Ono nodded.

"We know."

"When is the execution? I would like it done as soon as possible, please."

"Execution?" The director smiled. "I'm afraid not, Ms. Tendo. There will be no execution."

"WHAT? But you said..."

"We can't kill an innocent person, Ms. Tendo, no matter how vile they may be."

"Innocent?! I thought you'd seen... What I just... Didn't you say you could see what I was thinking?" Another nod.

"We can. We did. You passed. You are not guilty, by your own moral code."

"I don't understand..."

"The crimes you were accused of were the incapacitation of Kasumi Tendo, and..."

"Incapacitation?" Nabiki smirked. "I haven't heard THAT used as euphemism for death before. Just say I killed her."

"Oh, but you didn't..."

"WHAT?!"

"Not quite." Ono smiled. "She lived. For six months, she lived. She was paralysed, blind, and mute, but her mind still worked, and she was kept alive through intravenous feeding."

"Oh, deity..." She looked at herself, then Tanaro. "If that happened to Kasumi, why didn't you just bring HER back? Rebuild her, like you rebuilt ME. Why put me through all this, and let her die?"

"Oh, we TRIED, my dear Ms. Tendo," said the director. "But thanks to her daughter, that was QUITE impossible."

"Her daughter? Bell-chan?"

"Yes. She couldn't stand seeing her mother in that position, so after half a year of visiting her every day, and seeing her just LIE there, she... Pulled the plug. Quite literally. Disconnected her from all the life-support equipment..."

"Deity..." Nabiki cried. "I'm so sorry..."

The director looked amused. "There seems to be an uncharacteristic amount of compassion in your voice," he said. "Could it be that you're actually WORRIED that the incident might have hurt her?" The woman nodded. "Don't worry. She got over THAT pretty quickly. Now, the cleaning fluid was another matter entirely..."

"Cleaning fluid?"

"To make sure no one would try to reconnect her, or keep her alive artificially, Belladonna injected her mother with a strong basic solution while the heart was still beating. I'm afraid the organs were QUITE unsalvageable after that... I suppose we could have duplicated most of the body, but as you well know, 'The brain cannot be cloned'..."

"That can't be true!"

"But it is, and I have photocopies of the psychiatrist's bills, and the court stenographer's notes to prove it." Tanaro noticed Nabiki's arched eyebrow. "Don't look so surprised! Of COURSE there had to be a trial. Fortunately, she opted for consistency, and was found completely innocent. In her pure heart, she found death to be a preferable fate for Kasumi than the living hell you'd sent her to."

"I didn't know..."

"Precisely. You didn't know. Invincible ignorance has been your saviour. By your own moral code, you took all necessary precautions, and would provide the Onos with ample compensation... You wronged Ryouga, yes, but transferring the ownership of USE paid him back in full, since it covered his bail and legal costs, AND left him and his descendants... How does the phrase go? 'Set for life'..."

"What happens now?"

"You live."

"You realise, I'll only kill myself. I can't live in this world...Wouldn't YOU rather have the pleasure?"

Director Ono's eyes twinkled. "Oh, so you'll kill yourself?"

"Yes. As soon as you let me go, I will kill myself. If you try to rebuild me again, I will simply commit suicide a third time."

Without warning, Tanaro slipped a small dagger out of his jacket and threw it straight at Nabiki's head. Unthinkingly, she plucked it out of the air with her thumb and forefinger.

"What?!" She could not understand...

"I'm afraid, Ms. Tendo, that we can't afford to let you die... You will find that you now have a very well-developed self- preservation instinct... This, combined with your mechanical reflexes, leads to some interesting effects, as you have so kindly demonstrated."

"If you were ready to kill me anyway, why do this?"

"Come now, Ms. Tendo! If you'd been guilty, we'd have wanted to kill you OURSELVES, via the most painful, torturous mean your own imagination could devise. If you ended it all with just a relatively painless thrust of a knife, or something akin to it, that wouldn't do at ALL, now, would it? Never mind that, though. It still applies now that you've been found innocent. If you destroy yourself, how will you ever pay us back?"

"PAY YOU BACK?!"

"Of course! You may be innocent of the crimes, but this is still a consistency court... In your first life, you never gave anything for free..." Nabiki glared at him. "Well... Seldom... In any case, why should you expect US to give you a second chance, and not charge for it?"

The woman sighed. "I admit I might have been a bit... persuasive at times," she said, "but I never sold anyone ANYTHING without their having asked for it, first. I know I didn't ask for a resurrection, and my setting off that bomb should have made that abundantly clear, in any case."

"Oh, no?"

"No."

"What if I told you that we could prove it otherwise?"

"Huh?" The director reached into his jacket and pulled out a minidisk, then handed it to his assistant. "Jonathan? Play track 4730." He turned to Nabiki. "That disc has the mnemonic information we recorded while you were unconscious." Jonathan took the disc, and slipped it into the appropriate slot on the main computer terminal.

"You're bluffing," said Nabiki.

"Wait and see."

The screen came to life once more. This time, a red-haired girl wearing a yellow shirt and a bow-tie was sailing through the air. As soon as she landed, a young Nabiki poured hot water onto her from a tin kettle, promptly turning the girl into a black-haired, pig-tailed boy.

"Hey, watch it!" said Ranma.

"I figure two thousand yen should cover it," said Nabiki.

"Stop the recording, Jonathan. That's all we need."

"Yes, Sire. That morph... was that?"

"We have already discussed this. If you value your safety and your solvency, you will keep quiet."

"Hai."

"What do you say NOW, Ms Tendo?" said Tanaro, once again turning towards her.

"If I hadn't done that, Shampoo would've killed him," she said. "It was pretty clear that he would've asked for the water, if he could've. Besides, he paid me for it voluntarily. Eventually."

"Well, then," smiled the director. "We seem to be in agreement. If WE hadn't done what WE did, you would have remained dead, and you clearly want to live..."

"Just a minute!" exclaimed the woman. "I think that my suicide kind of shows that I DON'T want to live. I STILL didn't ask for this, and you STILL don't have a legal claim. There is no WAY you can hold me here. Good day!" She turned to leave.

"You're absolutely right, Ms Tendo," said the director.

"Huh? I... I am??"

"If it is clear that you indeed wished to die, then we cannot keep you here against your will. However, I don't think you'll want to leave without your WALLET."

"My wallet?"

"We found it at the blast site, and kept it for you."

"Thanks. I think."

Tanaro pulled a small leather item from his trouser pocket, and deliberately dropped a slip of paper from it onto the floor as he handed it to Nabiki. "Oh, dear," he said. "How clumsy of me. Now, I wonder what THAT could be?" He picked up the paper. "Hmm... Seems to be a life preservation card..."

"What?!" No. It couldn't be. Could it? Nabiki snatched the piece of cardboard from the man. It was.

"All right, I suppose you can keep it, if you like. We have plenty of copies, and I have the main text memorised, in any case. Let's see... How did it go?" A pause. "I, Tendo Nabiki, hereby declare that if there should come a time when I am unable to use my reasoning faculties, I am to be kept alive for as long as is medically possible, using whatever means are necessary. I forget the exact date and place of signing, I'm afraid. Am I right?"

Nabiki nodded. That was it, verbatim. With the organ-donation queues as long as they were, it was five to one against that the medical ghouls would pull the plug on you too soon, just to recycle your body. She'd thought it best to fill this out, just in case... Deity, what irony.

"So, you see, Ms. Tendo, the evidence closest to the time of your 'accident' suggests that you wished to live, regardless of what you may now believe, and hence you are in debt to us for services rendered."

Nabiki sighed. "Point taken," she said. "How, exactly, am I supposed to pay? I did sign over my company to Ryouga, after all..." "

That you did. In fact, the Hibikis are now one of the richest, and most respected, families in Japan... But, don't worry... We've found a way... You will work for us."

"Work? What kind of work?"

"Not the kind you'll enjoy, I'm afraid... Onocorp has no need for financiers, deity knows we have enough of them... Instead, you'll be working for the Kunou Foundation, as part of the government of Nerima."

"Which part?"

"The computer control centre."

"But... I don't really know how to handle a computer..." "I don't think you understand, Ms. Tendo. You will BE the computer control centre."

"WHAT?!"

"Your cerebral bionics, added to your natural intelligence, make you perfect for the job. You'll be hooked up to the main computer system, just like you were hooked up to this computer," he waved at the monitor, "and with a little conscious effort, you'll take care of everything from traffic lights to food supplies."

"That's insane! How will I keep track of it? And I'll need time to eat, and sleep, and..."

The director interrupted. "Don't worry. We have others in roughly the same position, and they all do an admirable job... As for eating and sleeping, well, you'll get the minimum government requirement, but that's only to comply with regulations... Thanks to your modifications, you don't really need to sleep, though you can, if you like, and eating shouldn't take up more than half an hour a day."

"Minimum government requirement?"

"You'll work for us sixteen hours a day, six days a week."

"I take it there's nothing I can do about it."

"Absolutely nothing."

"When do I start?"

"Today is Friday, so we will give you tomorrow off. Let Saturday be your rest day."

"What about accommodations? Lodging?"

"Don't worry... All that was taken care of long ago." Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "We did prepare for this eventuality, Ms. Tendo. Remember; none of us alive now knew you personally; we had no idea what your moral code was like... Congratulations. You're sicker than I gave you credit for."

"Thanks. I think..."

"Oh, yes... One more thing before I let you go."

"Hm?"

"Your name."

"Tendo Nabiki."

"Exactly. You can't use that anymore."

"Why not?"

"To the world at large, she's been dead for seventy years. Plus, your little antics left quite a stain on that name..."

"Then what..."

"You will now be known as Perdita."

"Perdita?"

"Latin. Feminine for 'Lost One'."

Nabiki gave him one of her patented 'looks'. "You must be joking. There is no way I am being called 'Lost One' in Latin. I'm a TENDO, not a HIBIKI."

"Too late. You're already registered." He turned to the attendant. "Jonathan? Take Perdita to her quarters."

"Aye, Sire."

"And, brief her on her new stats, will you? Birth date, parentage, and so on..."

"As you will, Sire." With that, Jonathan unhooked Nabiki from the terminal, replaced her head panel, unstrapped her and led her out the door.

Tanaro Ono was satisfied. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps it was BETTER, after all, that she had been found innocent. It seemed to him that she CRAVED death; that she couldn't stand to face the consequences of her actions. To Live... Now, THERE was her worst nightmare. To be alive in a world where she had killed her sister... Not only that, but one she thought of as a second mother...

He shook his head. It was poetic justice that she would now know more about that very part of the world that so concerned her, thanks to her new- found employment... A smile. Nabiki Tendo... Pardon. PERDITA had paid in full. Whistling airs from Beethoven's ninth, the director smoothed his jacket and went out the door.

--

**Epilogue: Nerima Graveyard December 15, 2095 - Saturday, 6:42 PM **

--

Nabiki walked up the dirt path to the hilltop, dressed in black, and with a thick veil hiding her face. Soon, she was in sight of the marble slab that marked the Tendo tomb. The cemetery's artificial lights were designed to be discrete, but their pinpoints of blue gave an eerie effect, and made it difficult for even her mechanical eyes to read the inscriptions on the plaque before the marker. Nabiki shivered, and it wasn't from the evening winter breeze.

_Just as well, _she thought. She'd checked the records beforehand, so she knew what to expect, but her mind wasn't quite strong enough yet to face the fact concretely. Not strong enough, by far. Besides... Someone else was at the graveside. A woman? Yes... That much she could tell from the chest... But the black, and the dark, made little else distinguishable. Probably some descendant of Kasumi's...

_I'm not going to think about that. _She was fooling herself. Of course she was going to. She thought of little else. Her crime, her family, and death were all that occupied her mind, roughly in that order. The figure stood, then turned and walked towards the exit gate.

_Well. No more putting it off... _With a deep breath of cold air, she gathered resolution and went towards the memorial. Once there, she knelt before the stone, and looked at the names inscribed on it. She ran her fingers lightly over the indentations in the marble. The fingers of her organic hand. The first name was her mother's. Then came Akane's, Daddy's, and before Kasumi's... Her own.

She had no right to be there, next to them. No right at all. She'd outlived them, though they were the ones who deserved life; not she. It wasn't fair! They'd left, and she'd stayed. Now she was alone, confused, and lost.

Lost. Nabiki laughed bitterly. Perhaps the name the foundation had chosen for her wasn't THAT inappropriate, after all. Perdita. "Lost one". Fitting. She might not scrap it QUITE as soon as she'd first planned...

The night birds were beginning to sing their songs, and the barking of dogs and noise of cat-fights was gradually replacing the whirr of the hovercars. The sky was dark; thick clouds made sure that even the full moon could not be seen. It was time to leave. The atmosphere and memories were getting to her. Better do what she'd come for, and go back to the hospice.

She reached into her robe, pulling out a bundle of incense sticks and a minilight. Hands shaking, she separated one of them from the rest, then carefully heated it. In seconds, the dull red rod began to glow, letting off grey-blue smoke which curled upwards, fading abruptly into the surrounding darkness. Even when one could tell the chemical composition of the soot at a glance, or the temperature of the flame, it was still a touching sight.

_Happy anniversary, sis_. Tears flowing liberally, she set the offering down next to Akane's name. It was with some surprise that she noticed the flower left by an earlier visitor. A cloned rose - in black, and still fresh.

_Must've been that woman... _She allowed herself to smile. At least SOMEONE in this future world still remembered...

No more. She had to stop living in the past, and begin to think of her future. Nabiki was dead and buried; she had been reborn, whether she liked it or not, and it was best that she remember that hers was now a different life from the one she'd left.

With a sigh, Perdita stood and trudged back to the main path through the neatly-cut grass, pausing only briefly to note with disgust that the Saotome tomb was mere inches away from her family's.

_Even in death, Ranma, you can't leave us alone..._

She started on the trail, and headed home.

**END**


	23. Kousei

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Well, Miss Tendo, you seem to be doing just fine," the doctor said.

She wondered if it was proper to call him a doctor. Was technician closer

to the mark? She slid off the examining table and walked over to her

clothes. The doctor watched in shock as she dumped the hospital gown on

the floor and began to dress without showing any signs of modesty.

Why should she? It wasn't her body.

KOUSEI

"Fairness"

by Jeffrey Paul Hosmer

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Perdita stepped out of the Kunou Foundation's cyber-clinic with a sigh

as her feet automatically started her back on her route to the office. Not

in the sense of habit, but because of the DayTimerTM program the KF had

installed. Fortunately, her clinic time was considered work-related (the

KF had certain obligations to its employees it could not avoid) but she was

not allowed to dawdle on the way back to work.

It took her exactly 7 minutes and 36 seconds to reach her work

station. Thirty seconds later, she was connected into the Nerima City

Government Net. Business as usual, just like every other day since her

unwanted resurrection. Endless, spirit-numbing work.

"How'd it go, Perdita?" an inquiring voice spoke up from behind her.

Perdita barely glanced at the other worker. Ever since she had

arrived, Pai had ignored the unwritten rules of the Computer Centre. None

of the workers here ever spoke to each other. They rarely left their

small, sound-dampened cubicles. (Why the KF spent all the money on the

dampening fields when their cyborgs rarely spoke aloud was beyond her. As

far as she knew, she was the only one who actually spoke to her computer.)

Even if they sat only six feet apart, they used e-mail to communicate.

Perdita had been grateful for that. She hadn't wanted to talk to other

cyborgs, hadn't wanted to get to know them. She had her own problems.

They seemed to feel the same way.

Not Pai. The young, Chinese beauty had been hired three months ago,

right after receiving her implants. In fact, her hair had still been

growing back when she arrived. She hadn't seemed bothered by it, almost

flaunting her 'enhancement'. In another lifetime, Perdita would have run

an office pool on the chances of the newcomer suffering from Delayed

Rejection Syndrome, but none of her fellow cyborgs gambled. The gleaming

plug was barely visible now, covered by sky-blue hair Pai kept in the same

short, practical hairstyle that Perdita had worn when she was young. Had

it come back into fashion again? She didn't know.

"It went OK," Perdita mumbled.

"Did you tell them about that static problem? It's annoying to get a

snap-crackle-pop in your head."

"Yeah. They said it was normal as the weather grows colder."

"Meaning they won't do anything about it?"

"That was my impression."

"That's hardly fair."

Perdita snorted before she could even think about it. "That's the KF

for you," she quipped. She stopped, angry with herself for letting her

disgruntlement show, but Pai only smiled and walked back to her work

station. Perdita turned back to her work, time seeming to stand still as

she waited for her sixteen-hour shift to end. She felt like she was in the

centre of a massive web, but not like a spider, but rather as its prey,

slowly being sucked dry.

Many mind-numbing hours later, her computer finally let her log off.

Gratefully, she unplugged her cord and watched it wind itself back inside

the terminal. It reminded her of a snake slithering back into its lair.

She stood and headed for the door.

Pai caught up with her outside. "Hey, Perdita! Want to go get a

drink?"

"Me?"

"Anyone else here named that? Come on, it'll be fun! I need to

unwind after working in this morgue."

"I--" Perdita had never considered it. Every other night after work

she had simply gone home and tried to sleep. The dreams would come then,

but even her nightmares could hardly measure up to what her life had

become. "Okay," she said, not entirely sure why.

"Great! I know just the place. You'll love it!"

The Brokerage was a radical bar, for a city controlled by the KF, the

cyborg thought when she saw it. As a result of Kunou-chan's reforms, most

bars looked like the small, 'salary-man' places she remembered from her

childhood. The night clubs and theme bars of her adulthood had been deemed

"immoral" by the great Saviour of Humanity. Today's youth didn't care much

about that, she knew, since reports of underground "Raves" and "incidents

of moral turpitude" came across her workstation every night.

This bar was decorated like those she had visited as a businesswoman

back in the late twentieth century. The business news of the day was shown

on flat screens, not holo-vision, and stock prices scrolled by on a display

that ran the length of the bar. It was obviously popular with the young

business crowd, as the dance floor nearby was rather full of young

executives waltzing (Kunou had his impact on the music industry as well).

It was a pleasant shock to the time-displaced cyborg.

"Great, isn't it?" Pai gushed, pulling her along to the bar. "Vodka

tonic," she told the bartender, tipping him extravagantly.

"Just a club soda," Perdita said, also tipping the man when he looked

her way. She wished for something stronger, but her KF-supplied

self-preservation circuits wouldn't even let her risk alcohol poisoning.

"Nothing stronger?" Pai asked, leading her to an empty booth once they

got their drinks.

"No. KF programming won't allow it," Perdita said.

"Why'd you let them stick that in?"

Perdita looked at her co-worker suspiciously for a moment. She still

hadn't made up her mind as to whether or not the young girl was with KF's

Internal Security (IntSec) or not. The possibility existed, of course.

The KF and OnoCorp (they were practically one company, though few people

knew that) had little trust in their employees. She had done some

investigating in the weeks following her resurrection. The practices of

these two cornerstones of modern Japanese society had shocked even her.

Tendo Nabiki had been different in that regard, at least, she thought.

Once Nabiki found where someone's self-interest lay, she could usually

trust them. She made sure they realised it would not be in their

self-interest to betray her. There had been a few exceptions, but Tendo

Nabiki had also been an excellent judge of character and trusted her

instincts. The cyborg wondered, though, how much, if any, of Tendo Nabiki

was left to her. Tendo Nabiki would not have let the KF and OnoCorp get

away with what they had done to her. Perdita Tendo would have found it

hard to get out of bed in the morning, were it not for her programming.

However, her instincts now told Perdita she could trust Pai, to some

extent at least. Wherever the blue-haired girl's self-interest lay, it had

little to do with reporting Perdita to the KF. Still, there was no need to

tell all.

"The KF paid for my 'enhancements.'" Perdita put a wry twist on the

last word. "I had been in an explosion and they rebuilt me. They gave me

the bill afterwards and I work for them to pay it off."

Pai looked stricken. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It was a long time ago. Don't worry about it. I don't really

remember a lot about it." Just sitting at home, watching the timer on the

bomb tick down, the red button that would halt the countdown sitting within

reach. Every time she wanted to push it, however, she thought of Kasumi

and stopped. That should have been the end of it.

"I guess I was lucky. My... family paid for my plug, and it's about

all I have." She took a sip of her drink, looking at her co-worker while

trying not to be obvious about it. Still, she managed a warm smile for

Perdita.

"Old money?" Perdita asked out of habit, her financial curiosity

aroused.

"Very old money, you could say. I don't get to see them too much

since I took the job at the KF. The hours are a killer."

Change the subject, Perdita thought. Family was the last topic she

wanted to talk about. "Why do it, then? You're not a wage-slave like I

am."

"Oh, it's all part of my career plan," Pai said with a conspiratorial

wink.

"Career plan? What are you going to do?"

"Why, try and take over the business world, of course," Pai

dead-panned.

Perdita froze in shock for a moment, then, to her own surprise, she

began to laugh. Pai started to giggle as well and soon the two of them

were laughing like old schoolgirls.

They talked for over an hour about business, finance, news, and even

the weather. Perdita found herself glad she had accepted Pai's invitation,

even if the Chinese girl was feeling the effects of the vodka tonics she

had imbibed. Maybe she had grown too paranoid since her resurrection,

seeing IntSec agents everywhere. She was heading for the bar for another

round when someone bumped into her.

"Hey!" she said, her macros spinning her around and into a defensive

stance even as she said it.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," the man who bumped into her said. He was an

American, with blond hair, tanned skin, and a well-built physique. Perdita

could tell that even through the business suit he wore. He was exactly the

sort of man she had chased back when she was Tendo Nabiki: ornamental. Not

like Ryouga, she thought, before she could stamp it out.

"Watch where you're going next time," she said, brusquely. She had no

time for pretty boys anymore.

"Say, haven't I seen you before?" the man said, smiling to reveal

perfect white teeth. He was obviously trying to turn on the charm and

Perdita wanted none of it.

"I don't think so," she said coolly.

He snapped his fingers. "That's right. I saw you at the K Foundation

the other day. I'm David Ransom, programmer." He held out his hand.

Perdita took it without thinking, "Perdita Tendo," she replied. A

programmer? She had seen the programmers the KF had working for them.

They reminded her of Gosunkugi Hikaru: pale, thin, and demented. She had

once caught one of them mumbling aloud in machine code. This man did not

fit the image.

He smiled, as if reading her thoughts. "Freelance programmer and

trouble-shooter, I should say. I don't spend my days tied to monitor, or

at least I try not to. I really am sorry about bumping into you like that.

Would you care to dance?"

"I--what?" He was suddenly moving too fast for her.

"Dance. By way of apology." He smiled again and took her arm.

Before she knew it, he had led her out to the dance floor just as another

waltz began. Perdita was surprised to find the KF had included dance

macros in her programming, but assumed they were part of some standard

package. She only had to consciously direct her movements if he made a

mistake. He was a skilful dancer and led her through the waltz with ease.

The waltz went to a tango number and Perdita let herself melt into his arms

for it. After several months being just a machine for the KF, it felt good

to be treated as human again, by this man and by--

Pai! She had forgotten her. After the tango, Perdita excused herself

and made her way over to her booth. Pai was sitting there, grinning.

"No wonder you don't unwind much, Perdita," she teased. "That tango

almost got you both arrested for public indecency!"

Perdita laughed along with her friend and David joined in. She then

noted the time on her internal chronometer. It was getting close to 11

P.M., and she reported to work at 4 A.M. Her 16-hour shifts cycled around

the clock, moving ahead four hours every month. That way, the KF reasoned,

she was experienced at running the computer centre at all hours. In

reality, all it did was keep her out of sync with most people in the city

most of the time. This month, at least, it was the 4 A.M. to 8 P.M. shift.

Her most "normal" workday.

"I have to get going," she said. Pai nodded, understanding. Perdita

turned to David. "Thanks for the dances. I'm sorry if I was rude

earlier," she began.

"Oh, think nothing of it," he said. "If you really feel bad about it,

maybe you'd let me take you out for dinner tomorrow? After the K

Foundation releases us from the salt mines, of course?"

Perdita blinked, then a slow smile spread across her face. "I think

I'd like that." Screw the KF, she thought, I'm a human being, not a cog in

their machine. I deserve a little fun.

One dinner date led to another, and another, and finally to something

else altogether. It would have resulted in Perdita being late to work were

it not for her DayTimerTM program. Still, Pai had noticed her co-worker's

happy glow and had teased her about it mercilessly.

As time went on, however, Pai seemed less than happy about Perdita

spending time with David. "I'm just worried about you getting so serious

with him," she said to Perdita one day. "After all, he's freelance... who

knows when the KF will let him go. And long distance relationships never

really work," she added.

Perdita was too happy to care. She chalked it down to her friend

being jealous of the time she spent with David and made an effort to find

more time with Pai. That seemed to mollify the young girl a little.

One Saturday, her rest day, David took Perdita out on a rented

sailboat. She had been a little hesitant at first, partly because of her

memories of a disastrous sailing trip on Kunou-chan's boat, and partly

because she wasn't even sure if her cyborg body could swim. The lure of

sun and sea had been too much to resist, and David quickly proved that he

was no Kunou when it came to nautical matters. Perdita had been pleased to

learn her prosthetics could tan, matching the rest of her skin, after they

found a secluded place to drop the anchor and spend some time in the sun.

So, it was with a light heart that she logged onto her workstation

Sunday morning. Pai was on her rest day, or she would have teased her

friend about it. She even hummed a little tune as she skimmed through the

list of things to do. Then she stopped cold at a personnel action.

PERSONNEL TERMINATION: RANSOM, DAVID

REASON FOR TERMINATION: COMPLETION OF CONTRACT.

TERMINATION CODE: AE35

Termination Code AE35 meant that David would be fired for cause,

usually something trumped up, so that the KF could deny him the rights to

any product he worked on while he was with them. It was a dirty trick, one

that she wouldn't even have considered as Tendo Nabiki. She would have

least included a fat severance check as hush money.

She could stop it. A few simple commands and David would be assigned

to another job within the company. An even simpler command could allow him

to walk away without the stigma of termination with cause, but then he

would be out of her life. She gnawed at her lip in indecision, a little

surprised at how important he had become to her. If the KF watchdogs

caught her changing the order, she was sure that bastard Tanaro would find

a way to make her pay for it. He could send her to jail, "rehabilitation"

as they now called it, and since the KF ran the jails, it would be easy to

make her disappear. Perdita had not wanted to live when Tanaro had

resurrected her. A part of her still wanted to die, but she wanted to die

on her terms, not as part of some punishment dreamed up by him.

She put off her decision for a bit, dealing with other matters. It

was not a priority job, anyway. Still, as the hours ticked along, she came

nearer and nearer to the time when a decision must be made. And she was no

closer to making it.

Suddenly, an e-mail marked both "PRIVATE" and "URGENT" came into her

in-box. She blinked, not at the flags, but the fact that the sender's

address had been carefully removed from the mail. She attempted to trace

it, but the trail just looped back and forth through the KF's

sub-processors. It all looked like a minor power fluctuation had corrupted

the mail, thus removing the sender's ID, but that seemed too pat an answer

to Perdita. Still, she opened the mail.

It contained a single file. Opening it, Perdita was shocked to see

that it was images from a KF security camera - one placed directly in

Tanaro's office! She noticed the IntSec time stamp was intact and

un-tampered with. Someone had gone through a lot of time and effort to

snatch this file.

Her curiosity aroused, she played it. She closed her eyes and viewed

it in her head, so that the IntSec monitor in her workstation would see

nothing out of the ordinary.

She saw President Ono at his desk. A moment later, he was joined by

another man and, in the silence before either spoke, she could hear the

sound of her heart breaking. David took a seat in front of the desk.

"How goes your operation?" Tanaro asked, still working on his computer

as he spoke.

"I've got her in the palm of my hand, sir. I really believe she's in

love with me."

"Believe me, that creature is incapable of love," was the cold reply.

"And I think our endorphin macro had something to do with it. I don't

doubt she is plotting to one day escape, but if you're right, she will find

it hard to leave our... warm embrace." Tanaro chuckled at that, a sound

that made Perdita shudder. The file came to an end.

Perdita opened her eyes and stared at the screens around her, wanting

to smash every one of them. Her self-preservation programming and her

financial sense stopped her before she hurt herself and added to her debt.

Getting control of herself, she turned her finely tuned mind (thanks to the

KF) loose on the information she had just received. A thorough manual

self-diagnostic soon revealed the Tanaro's macro, which was designed to

cause an low-level endorphin spike in her brain when certain code words,

like "K Foundation," were used. The endorphins made her feel pleasant and,

as a side-effect, dampened any suspicions she might have. In a way, she

had to thank the KF. If they hadn't worked her so hard as a, she never

would have had the skill to find and disable the macro. It was hardwired,

like her self-preservation programs, but she could write a macro to alert

her when it turned on. That knowledge would diminish its effects. Once

that was done, she turned her thoughts to what to do with Mr. David Ransom.

After a moment, she began to smile.

"Good morning, Pai," a sombre Perdita greeted her friend the next day.

"I saw the news, Perdita," Pai responded. "I'm sorry about David."

"No, you were right about him after all." Perdita shook her head.

"Embezzling from the Kunou Foundation...? I didn't think anyone was that

stupid."

"I'll understand if you don't want to go out tonight..."

"No, I think it'll be just the thing to get my mind off him," Perdita

said with a smile. Behind that smile, plans were already beginning to

form. With this latest stunt, Tanaro had thrown down his gauntlet. He

would learn what it meant to challenge Tendo Nabiki. With new

determination, she threw herself into her work.

Pai smiled back and walked over to her workstation. Well, that was

easy enough, she thought. I wondered what she'd do with the information I

found, but I never thought she'd turn the tables on them so neatly. She

will go far in the Organisation.

In a secret chamber somewhere in Tokyo, a strange figure raised its

head. It could sense there had been a subtle change, something that could

spell doom for all it had wrought over the last century. The figure feels

the cosmic pendulum reach its apex and begin to swing back. For the first

time in a hundred years, it wonders what the future will bring.

The End


	24. Gisei

GISEI

"Sacrifice"

written by

Jeffrey Paul Hosmer

--------------------------------------------------------------

I hate Jusenkyo.

It surprises people when they hear me say that.

Surprises and shocks them. Aren't I the Witch of Jusenkyo?

Isn't it my home, my source of power, my haven? And I have to

answer yes to all those questions.

I still hate Jusenkyo.

But tomorrow, it will return my love to me. I will

forgive it everything else if it will only do that.

I still remember the day I first met him. He was cursed

by Jusenkyo into the body of a young girl, but I knew it not.

I thought he was just a foolish outlander girl who had to

learn to respect Amazon customs.

He taught me instead. It was embarrassing, humiliating.

I was defeated so easily by the outsider girl. I knew what to

do. I gave the girl the Kiss of Death. She ran away and I

followed her back to Japan. And there I met her as him.

What can I say about that meeting, after all these years?

I know what the others thought of me. They thought I was a

stupid fool, following some outdated laws. They didn't think

I understood them, but I did.

It wasn't the law. It wasn't the fact that he beat me.

It was no less embarrassing to me when my love defeated me in

combat than anyone else. It was the connection I felt. I had

sensed it even back in China, when he was a girl, but it was

even stronger when he was a man. When our eyes met, I felt

it. When I touched him, it practically screamed. Our

destinies were linked.

But he didn't love me.

Mousse once told me that an outlander had written "the

truth shall set you free." This truth did nothing of the

sort. I knew in my heart that he didn't love me. I know that

on the day he died that his last thoughts were of her.

My rival. A weak, tomboyish girl who couldn't cook. She

was cute, but I was more beautiful. All the advantages were

mine. Yet she still won his heart. Without even trying, she

won it. Abusing him, she won it. How?

I couldn't even kill her for it. I can't kill people. I

found that out when hunting my love. Something stops me

before the final blow lands. I never told Great-Grandmother,

but she knew. If not at the beginning, she knew at the end.

It was all that saved her from me.

But as for my rival, Akane, I couldn't kill her for an

even more important reason. He loved her. My other rival, in

both restaurants and love, knew this too. We both denied it,

and we both knew it. It drove her mad in the end, after he

died. I was mad for a time, too. But I'm perfectly sane now.

He was the center of our lives, the heart of our pattern.

We revolved around him. When he died, the pattern broke

apart. I can see it now, with my witch's sight. The pattern

is broken and frayed, but the links still exist. I don't know

how it can still exist with so many people dead and gone, but

it is there.

It is waiting for him.

That is how I know I will succeed. And this time, I will

fill Akane's place in the pattern, if I can. But if not, I

will still have discharged my debt to him.

He died because of Great-Grandmother.

Not directly, but it is still her fault and my shame.

Great-Grandmother never did anything directly. She had

supplemented her fighting skills with magicks, knowledge and

cunning. When I was little, she was everything I wanted to

be.

Now she is everything I loathe.

Despite that, I am turning into her. Because of her, I

have mastered magic. I have learned things I would rather

forget.

And I am three inches shorter than I once was.

As I grow older, my body is slowly changing, growing more

efficient, requiring less food and sleep. In another hundred

and fifty years, I will resemble a small, withered mummy, just

like her. The thought horrifies me, and not just because of

vanity. I dream that I wake up and look in the mirror and see

her sightless, grinning face staring at me. And then I

realize it's my own face.

I have broken a lot of mirrors.

Tomorrow, I will cast the spell.

He will return to life, I know. It is not a perfect

spell, but Jusenkyo only allows me to do so much. Considering

the terrible cost I paid, it seems a poor recompense. But to

look into his eyes, to see HIM looking back at me, I would do

almost anything.

When I was mad, I tried dunking animals into the spring

that housed his soul. It didn't work. They were still

animals in mind. To see his body, still young and vibrant, as

handsome as I remember, yet with no mind behind those eyes...

I killed his body. My hands, already red with the blood

of my kin, snapped his neck more times than I care to

remember. Afterwards, I would just sit by the spring,

cradling the slowly dying body for hours. Eventually, Mousse

would come and take me home. I never asked him what he did

with the corpses. I don't want to know. Later, he got a

small force field generator from Nabiki, a prototype, that he

used to seal off the spring. Blood turns black on a force

field, did you know? I found that out when I bashed a

squirrel's head in, trying to force it through the shield. I

stopped trying after that.

It was hard on us, those first few years. The Amazons

would not accept my reasons for attacking Great-Grandmother.

I didn't care. I was still mad with grief. If I had been

sane, perhaps I could have kept my place in the tribe. But I

wasn't, so I didn't.

They didn't care what Mousse did. He was just a man,

after all. He followed me. If he was surprised that I went

to Jusenkyo, he gave no sign. Patiently, and for many years,

he took care of me. I remember him feeding me when I refused

to eat, making sure I was dressed properly, combing my hair.

He cared more for my appearance than I did.

He spoke to me, constantly. That is probably what let me

regain my sanity. His soft, gentle voice was a lifeline I

clutched at. He never took advantage of me, even when I was

so catatonic I couldn't even bathe myself.

I am ashamed by his love.

If I could only have returned it, then perhaps things

would have been all right. But I couldn't return it. Mousse

was like a brother to me. I told him as much, once. He

smiled in that sad way of his and I couldn't meet his gaze.

It was he that helped me find my purpose. Even though it

drove him away from me, made me drive him away, I think--I

hope--that he was content, knowing I was sane.

He told me what Great-Grandmother had done.

I have no honor left.

My honor is my family's honor is my tribe's honor. If

one of us is dishonorable, the greater part casts us out. If

a person is dishonorable, the family casts her out. If a

family is dishonorable, then the tribe casts it out.

Great-Grandmother cast aside our family honor.

When I was born, Mousse tells me, my Great-Grandmother

cast certain magicks. She sought the shape of my destiny with

the tribe. She saw that if I married a strong man, then the

tribe would grow strong. If I never married, the tribe would

wither and die.

I never married.

The tribe is gone now, except for a few. The young ones

all left for the promises of the city, of modern life. All

that is left is the elders, like myself, who cling to the old

ways. They will all die soon, and then the Joketsuzoku will

be no more.

I have not been to the village in decades, but Mousse's

family visits me occasionally. They have told me what

happened. I know it is my family's fault.

Great-Grandmother was determined to have me marry the

strongest man she could find. She trained me night and day,

almost from as soon as I could walk. I was not even supposed

to talk to a boy, unless he could defeat me in combat. Mousse

was the sole exception, and that was only because he wouldn't

go away.

He was my best friend.

Great-Grandmother caught me kissing him once. It was my

first kiss, and his, too. I didn't mean anything by it, but I

was curious. He was only too happy to help. It was clumsy,

it was nervous, it made us both laugh. And then Great-

Grandmother nearly broke open his skull with her staff. His

eyesight started getting really bad after that, but he never

blamed me. I blame myself enough for both of us.

I tried to drive him away, to keep him from getting hurt,

but on that one thing, he never listened to me. I had to

harden my soul against seeing him in pain, because I could not

go against my Great-Grandmother. I kept hoping he would

leave, so he wouldn't be hurt any more, but secretly I was

relieved that he stayed, and wouldn't leave me alone.

I am so alone now.

Great-Grandmother was always testing me and my love's

strength. Sometimes, like with the Cat's Tongue Pressure

Point, she was obvious about. Sometimes she was subtle.

My love died without even knowing it was her fault.

Akane died blaming her tool. Ukyou went mad, but even she

thought it was over.

It isn't.

Great-Grandmother let the old pervert have a scroll of

summoning. She knew many secrets of Jusenkyo, including the

identity of the girl who had drowned to provide my love's

curse. She also knew of a powerful spirit who had loved that

girl in life. She merely waited until the proper moment to

use that knowledge.

Kasumi told us.

The news traveled slowly. The pattern was breaking and

we were all stunned by it, some so much that we couldn't

function.

Poor Kasumi. She was outside our pattern, outside of all

patterns, really, save those she made herself. It did not

save her from being dragged into my family's plans. Mousse

told me how she died, by 'accident.' It was no accident.

It was the curse.

She came to us and told us, before she broke down

sobbing, that my love was dead. I was waitressing at the

time. I dropped my plates. It was the first time I had ever

done that. I remember looking down at the mess and thinking I

would have to clean it up. The thought of my love, dead,

didn't really penetrate. I got down on my knees and began to

clean up the mess, ignoring Kasumi.

She slapped me.

I can still remember the sting of her palm on my cheek.

She dragged me up off of my knees and slapped me. Kasumi

slapping someone? Unheard of. She dragged me up off my

knees. I was babbling about cleaning. I don't recall. She

slapped me.

My love was dead.

My world was over.

Great-Grandmother said, "Oh well, there are other

potential son-in-laws."

I didn't go mad then.

I want this understood above all else. I was not mad

when I did it.

I don't think I was mad.

I know when I was mad. There are whole periods of my

life that I can't recall. Mousse. Mousse was there, I know.

He was always by my side. He told me later that ten years

passed while I was mad. I only remember a few summers, a

snowfall. Jusenkyo. I remember Jusenkyo. I remember the

blood turning black on a force field. I remember His body,

the eyes windows to an animal's soul. I remember the cracking

sound his neck made all those times. I remember each time,

but I can't count them.

I remember my hands, flying at her face. She was

surprised. She was afraid. I could see it in her eyes.

Those eyes did not see the world. They dissected it, they

measured it, they analyzed it. They devoured it.

The hard part was digging my fingers into the sockets

without damaging the eyes. Her training served me well there.

I did it fast, so fast she would have been proud, if she could

have seen it. It was pluck and then pop out they came.

Little nerves trailed back into the sockets. I pulled them

out slowly now, curious. How long would they stretch? An

inch? Two? Could she still see me? Someone was screaming.

I think it was her. I had never heard her scream before. It

was shriller than I thought it would be.

I could still see the fear in her eyes.

The nerves snapped. I didn't get a good measure of how

long they stretched. Something to remember next time. She

was still screaming, I noted, but I didn't care. I was

looking at the eyes.

They were quite pretty. Blue, the color of the sky. His

were gray, the color of a storm. He was a force of nature,

like a storm. What did the blue mean? I sat there, staring

into them.

She wouldn't stop screaming. I wondered why. Was there

something in her eyes? She had her hands clutched to her

face. Oh, right. I had forgotten. Silly me.

The eyes were looking at me.

Mousse had been there. He watched and heard it all.

What a sight we must have made. The blinded Amazon matriarch,

screaming and clutching the eyeless sockets and the young

Amazon warrior, her hands covered in blood, staring into the

eyeballs in her hand.

They were looking at me.

Free of their owner and master, they studied me. Cold,

analytical, devouring eyes.

They were LOOKING at me.

Stop looking at me! I can see them, judging me still. I

am a failure in her eyes. Under her stare, I was powerless.

THEY WERE LOOKING AT ME!

So I devoured them.

They tasted awful.

I don't remember anything of Japan after that.

I remember the village.

Mousse took me back there. My Great-Grandmother stayed

in Japan. I didn't know why, then. Mousse told me later that

Akane had killed herself, after killing the old pervert. I

was happy for her. That was a warrior's death. I knew why

she had killed herself. To be with him. I couldn't do the

same.

I was too afraid.

The village denounced me. I had laid hands on the

Matriarch of my family. I had blinded her, deliberately. I

was not repentant.

I was cast out.

They were right. I had done all that. I had gone

against our... their most sacred laws. I was without honor.

Later, I learned that Mousse told them what my Great-

Grandmother had done, hoping they would forgive me.

They disowned my family, instead.

I was honorless, without family or tribe. What would

happen to my soul on death? I couldn't even be sure that I

could be with him. His soul was at Jusenkyo.

So I went to Jusenkyo.

The next decade or so is a blur of half-memories. Mousse

was always there for me, except when he went to the village

for supplies. He had worked out an arrangement with the new

head of the village trading post, a young girl named

Antibacterial Liquid Hand Soap. Even I could tell from his

descriptions of her that she loved him.

Mousse always was blind.

Mousse would always speak with me, even though I rarely

answered. We went on like that for years, until he said

something that cut through my madness.

"If only Cologne hadn't given Happousai that scroll."

He was muttering to himself, not intending me to hear,

but I had become very attuned to his voice. The words shot

straight to my heart. I grabbed him and told him to explain

what he meant.

The Tendos had given him Happousai's possessions before

we left Japan. He showed me the scroll that had summoned the

vengeful spirit. It was in Great-Grandmother's handwriting,

obviously copied from some older scroll to preserve the

contents. She had used simple kanji and wrote them large, so

even someone like Happousai couldn't mix them up.

My family had killed my love.

I almost fled back into madness then. It would have been

easy. But it was not what my love would have done. Before, I

had wallowed in my own, personal disgrace. This was

different. My family had deliberately hurt another family. I

owed a debt of honor. I could not ignore it. I could not

avoid it.

I could not fulfill it.

There was a letter, a letter that Mousse had not wanted

to show me. It was from Great-Grandmother. She had written

it carefully, trusting her hands to form the characters she

could not see. She warned me that as my choice had sealed the

fate of the Amazons, so did it seal the fate of the Tendos,

the Saotomes, and all of Japan.

Her curse.

I knew her power. I could not face her there again.

But my love was here.

I could fight her here.

How?

I found the answer.

There was an old woman living near Jusenkyo. It was said

that she was once an Amazon, before being cast out, her name

forgotten. She was the Witch of Jusenkyo then. She would

have the answers I needed.

But first, I waited and built up my strength. Ten years

of madness had caused my strength and coordination to wither

away. I had to regain it. Mousse stood by me, helped me,

trained with me.

But I went to the Witch alone.

She did not wish to train me. I explained my

circumstances. She ignored me. I told her about my love.

She refused to listen. I told her about Great-Grandmother.

She listened.

Great-Grandmother had played a role in casting the Witch

out of the Amazon Tribe. For vengeance, she was willing to

teach me. She told me right away, however, that she did not

know of a way to bring my love back to life. I would have to

find my own way.

I would have to pay my own price.

Jusenkyo, she told me, always demands a price of those

who would try to learn its secrets. It was always something

near and dear to the seeker's heart. I told her I understood

and that I had to do two things before I could study under

her. I left her there and went back to Mousse.

Oh, spirits, what a fool I was.

I owed my love, but I also owed Mousse. Between us was

something stronger than friendship, even if it was not the

love he sought.

I could not give him my heart.

So I gave him my body.

It shames me to write this, and I regret it every day,

but I could not give him my virginity. He never knew, I

think. I could be a good actor, when I needed to be, and he

was as new to this as I. He had kept himself pure for me.

I, on the other hand, took a small animal to Jusenkyo.

Sane, the force field was easy to turn off.

He was as handsome as ever, and the body knew what to do.

It was wonderful.

I hated myself.

I wish I knew what Mousse had done with the corpses. I

had to settle for weighing the animal down with stones and

leaving it in the spring.

Mousse didn't want my gift. We argued about it for two

weeks. For once, I out-stubborned him. Every night I offered

myself to him, naked, tempting him, telling him that if he

accepted, he would have to leave.

He resisted me for two weeks, nearly killing himself in

the process. I almost gave in to him then. We could, I

think, have found some happiness together.

No.

I am only trying to fool myself.

Mousse gave in on the fifteenth day.

It was wonderful.

I hated myself.

Mousse left the next day, with many a backward glance.

Nine months later, he had his revenge, however.

I named her Akane.

I began studying under the Witch, sure that Jusenkyo

could take nothing more from me than it already had.

Then Akane came.

The Witch helped me with the birth. I did not want to

tell Mousse. I did not want him to put himself at risk.

For hours, I suffered, pushing and breathing, downing

concoctions the Witch brewed to aid the delivery.

Pain.

Breathe.

Push.

Pain.

Breathe.

Push.

Tear.

Fulfillment.

I cannot describe how I felt when Akane was put in my

arms. She was so tiny and perfect. Dark hair already covered

her head and she reminded me so much of the tomboy. She was

uncoordinated, screaming angrily, and hitting anything near

her.

Except when I held her.

She was so beautiful.

My life settled into a routine. Chores, learning, taking

care of Akane. The Witch often tried to get me to give up, go

back to Mousse, raise my child. I kept refusing. When Mousse

visited, I hid Akane from him. He would never suspect the

truth.

Years passed. Mousse married Antibacterial Liquid Hand

Soap and they had children of their own. My knowledge of

magic grew, as did Akane. I kept her hair cut short, like the

tomboy, and she looked a bit like her.

When she didn't remind me of Mousse.

She was a loving child. She even melted the heart of the

old Witch, who could refuse Akane nothing. I taught her to

hunt when she was old enough, and how to fight.

She was very smart, and I wished I could send her to

school. I put off the decision, however, thinking there would

be time, later. I would tell Mousse that she had wandered

into Jusenkyo, an orphan, and have him see to her education.

Would he have seen through the lie?

Even after she became a teen, I kept her close. She was

so innocent and gentle, so prone to see the beauties of life.

When we watched a sunset, she could always see more colors,

more beauty than I.

How could I have made something so perfect?

But from day one, I told her to never, never play among

the springs.

One day, when she was 16 years old, she didn't come home

for dinner.

She was at the springs.

I don't want to write any more about this.

The Witch had nodded sadly when I told her about Akane,

explaining that Jusenkyo had demanded a similar price of her,

once.

I broke a lot of things.

Years passed. I learned more and more about Jusenkyo.

The Witch died one winter, of pneumonia. I tried to tend her,

but one night, while I was asleep, she got up and, in a

delirium, stumbled out to Jusenkyo. She drowned.

At least I think it was the result of delirium.

When I am about to die, will I find myself back here? Is

that the final price of Jusenkyo?

I don't know.

Last week, I completed the spell.

It is now almost a century since my love died. I thought

of waiting for the exact day, but I cannot. I will have my

love back. I will see HIM in those eyes. Then, I will be

happy.

The spell is not perfect. He will have to share his body

with another. There is no way around that, save the

annihilation of the host's spirit before casting the spell.

I can't kill.

If I could, would I for him?

No. He would not want that.

I am writing this the day before I attempt the spell.

I am an empty shell.

Everything I once was, I lost or gave up. My Amazon

heritage, my brother Mousse, my sanity, my... daughter.

My love... Ranma must never know.

If those eyes were to look at me in pity, or loathing, I

could not bear it.

If he knew the depth of my dishonor, of my family's

dishonor, he would flee my presence.

If he did that, I would...

What?

I could kill him. I know how to do it. Wrap my hands

around that perfect throat, feel the pulse thrumming against

my palms as I squeeze. A snap, then the body sags.

No. I can't kill a person.

I am such a weakling.

He must never know.

For him, I will be the old Shampoo. I will speak as I

did in those days, I will act as I did in those days. Spirits

of Jusenkyo, let him see nothing of the real Shampoo, the

Shampoo described in these pages.

If he knew, I would die.

I know how to do that too.

I hate Jusenkyo.


	25. Part of His World

PART OF HIS WORLD

He doesn't know it, but sometimes I'll go and watch him. When he's

in his bedroom, or at dinner, I'll climb up the twisted tree that spreads

along the north side of his house, and look at him through flimsy drapes.

Why do I do it? I don't know. All I can say is that often, I'll be

sitting at my desk, intent upon some history or math, when I'll blank out

and all that I will see's his face. The twinkling eyes, the unkept hair

that overflows over a thick bandanna... If I then try to work again, I

fail, quite mis'rably. Much as I try to concentrate on torque or battle,

integral or execution, the only thing that fills me with an eagerness to

BE, to DO, is thoughts of being with him, next to him, to see him, smell

him, feel his presence, see the pinkish glow around him from his aura...

And being who I am, I succumb to temptation. It's no use trying

to avoid it; sure as spirits will pursue those who they're interested in,

he haunts me, and so I follow him.

Ironic. All I want to do is speak to him, to learn from him, to

let him learn from ME, but every time I try, I stall. My mind stops up,

I fidget and stare at my shoes, then mumble something incoherent and inane

before skittering off through a convenient exit. The best that I can hope

for's what I have already mentioned; viewing him from hidden heights,

delighting in the sound of second-hand, recycled laughter and rejoicing

in the few brief glimpses that I catch of him, either dining or asleep.

He sleeps so sweetly! On his side, he hugs his pillow, smiles, and

even chuckles every now and then, as something in his dreams conspires to

bring him mirth. And when he eats, the Hibiki tradition is quite evident

in the refined and classy way in which he handles his utensils, daintily

bringing bite after bite into a thin-lipped mouth, which carefully chews

each morsel...

Even in the cafeteria, he shows his cultured ways. And being there

at the same time as he, and seeing the display with open eyes for once,

instead of with the vision of my mind... That tempted me, upon a time, to

fin'lly try my luck; to go to him, reveal my heart, and stand my judgement

stoically.

Yeah, right.

When do came to ado, I summoned him. I did!

"Ratiko!" I yelled, as he was exiting the lunch line.

"Yes?" he asked, and smiled, and walked to where I stood.

I looked at him, and tried to speak, but my mouth went dry, and

my throat closed up, and all I managed was some clumsy stammering while

the two of us stood awkwardly before each other.

Then, I looked into his eyes. Perhaps in them there would be

something I could use, that I could bring up to begin intelligent parley.

No luck. His family genes kicked in, and noticing my attentions, he turned

red, and lowered his head to stare at the reconstituted beans that graced

his plastic meal-tray.

He was about to leave. I could tell. His feet were shuffling

uncomfortably, and his thumbs were fidgeting along the upraised

side-ridges of the tray.

This was the time. I drew deep breaths for courage (and was

pleased, I must admit, at how each inhalation brought Rat's face a step

or two closer to crimson), then hardened my countenance and started:

"Ratiko, I..."

"Skeride! Over here!"

"What?" I swivelled, trying to find who had called me. Just my

luck. The physics club were seated at a table of their own, trying their

hand at some new problem of theirs. No matter how many times I told them

that my major was to be Exploratory History, they refused to leave me, and

although I had not registered, was made a de-facto, non-dues-paying member

sheerly through the virtue of my valedictorian grades in the course.

"Think you could help us here?" asked one of them. "We've been

at this one for HOURS, and we don't have a clue as to how to finish it."

"I think you have to go now," said the darling Hibiki. I nodded,

then remembered something.

"I haven't said my name, have I?" I asked. Mirabile dictu, that

sentence all came through. Ratiko shook his head.

"Gosunkugi Skeride," I told him, and in an automatic greeting

gesture offered my hand. Before I realised what I had done, he took it in

his own firm grip, and shook it.

"Hibiki Ratiko. Pleased to meet you." With that, he turned and

left to eat with friends, leaving me standing dazed. I still remember

every moment of that touch, when skin-to-skin, my powers were allowed

to probe him, feel him, sense his nature and his soul...

And now I'm in it worse than ever. Never since, or e'er before,

had ever such a noble, happy, pure and pristine spirit crossed my path.

His dominant colour was a pale pastel pink, his feeling warmth and comfort,

and throughout all that intelligence and perspicacity suffused... That

wasn't all, though. I can't describe the rest. It was like all the goodness

in the world combined into a batter, then mixed and baked into a light,

spongy angel-food-cake.

The physics club never DID get me to help them with that problem.

As soon as I regained my senses, I bolted out the door and didn't stop my

legs until I had rushed into my room, locked the door and was prone upon

my bed.

It's been a week (well, almost two), and still I cannot rid my

mind of what I felt that noon. No more. I must come out of hiding. What

time is it?

I look outside the window. The moon is up, and thanks to all the

rain-clouds has a watery halo. Judging by its angle of ascension, and the

time of year, it's probably close to midnight.

I could look at my clock, but then what use would it have been

to take that astrophysics course? 

Tonight I'll tell him. If I don't, I risk that someone else will

beat me to his heart.

Where could he be, though?

Concentrate.

I close my eyes, as I was trained to do, and focus on the wards

that I have set on him. Protection, luck, and health they bring, but also

should allow me to feel where he is.

Nothing.

I try again, and think I feel him very faintly. A soft, warm

glow, a flash of pink - and then it's gone. The magic still is much too

recent, and before it has a chance to grow, I won't be able to get much

from it.

Better go to Jansen's. She usually knows where that Hibiki is.

I stand up and look in the mirror.

Typical Gosunkugi figure. Sunken eyes surrounded by dark rings, a

pale white face, and long brown hair that falls until my waist, a bright

white stripe along the middle bringing symmetry to my whole.

And what of clothes? It looks all right, I guess... Black

body-suit, a leather jacket... Nothing to complain about, and if I'm lucky,

it might even bring a nosebleed from that darling Rat.

I smile. The dear is truly heir to USE.

A pat, a smooth, a brush, and I leave. The room I'm looking for is

close. Just a few doors and a hallway or two and I'm there. Kunou Hall,

A-321. I knock.

"Come in!" says a female voice.

I open the door. Inside are Jansen, with that friend of hers...

Akane... I never COULD remember her last name.

"Oh. Hi there, Nutkin," Childra says, and the other waves. Somewhat

nervously. She's always been a bit jittery around me, though I can't tell

why...

"Do you know where Ratiko is?"

"Rat?"

I nod.

"Haven't seem him for days. He went off on some school trip with

Thompson. Considering his sense of direction, you know what THAT means..."

I sigh. She's right. I only hope that Kim, being American, does

not desire him as I do. I can only hope. But worse! If HE likes HER...

I stop that train of thought. No use in worrying until he returns. Which

may take days (or weeks?).

"Thank-you," I answer, and excuse myself.

Tonight was not the night.

I'll wait for him, and when we meet again, then I WILL tell him.

I will. No more excuses, no more delays. He will know how I feel, and

I will accept the fate which he pronounces.

I walk back, to sit, and think, and work, and hold my breath in

expectation of what is to come.

The future.

Somewhere in China, a moto-mech speeds through a barren landscape.

"We're out of the range of the navmap," says a black-haired boy,

red bandanna flapping in the wind.

"OUT OF RANGE???" The girl behind him frowns. "I thought those

things were good for a thousand-K radius!"

"They are."

"And we..."

"Are out of that radius."

"RATIKO NO BAKA!"


	26. Episode 1: Resurrection

**PROLOGUE **

JUSENKYO, 2096

I squint in the moonlight, trying to find the marks I scratched into the floorboards during the daylit hours. Jusenkyo, never one for electric lighting or amenities, is nevertheless ruthless in its demands for exactitude. A few feeble silver rays trickling through the roof slats are my only illumination as I finish inscribing the wards.

I thank the gods for the centuries of careful Amazon breeding that have blessed me with good sight. This is the last time I will have to face the dark. I have lived in it, gone mad, bathed myself in the spiritual murk of the cursed pools for almost a century, and my penance in almost done - in just a few moments, it will give way to my Ra- My redemption.

Jusenkyo demands a price - that phrase is burnt inside my head through force and pain and a thousand proofs, but it has TAKEN what was owed it, and still more - my youth, years of my life and all of Ak...

None of that. Not now. I have paid overfull, and am owed at least THIS in return.

The spell is not perfect, it has its faults, but it will have to do. It is all I can do. The candles before me are needles, the carefully drawn symbols and lines are the thread. With these tools and my clumsy hands I will try to mend the broken pattern... but I was never a good seamstress. I know that the stitches will be visible, and crude, but at least the cloth will hold together and the tear in the fabric, the tear in my mind, the tear in our shared REALITY will have been patched.

"Fire." I speak the word, then close my eyes and visualise his death. A laugh, a flash, a blinding beam and then he's burnt, his silk shirt charred and smouldering upon his carbonised flesh. The 'red' he is affianced to wraps her arms around him, cries, and- Flame. My mental offering is accepted by whatever minor deity oversees my spell, and one of the candles erupts in a tall crimson jet.

"Air." The soul that haunted my beloved is roused from dormancy. As it stretches, yawns and rises, so does the corpse it once inhabited, and when it leaves, the shell of a warrior falls on to a similarly-coloured asphalt with an unworthy, organic thump. There is room in my mind's eye only for the smile on the face of the wakened spirit, for the upwards tilt of her red-haired head as her eyes meet that of HER betrothed, and the two complete a pact they'd made long before I thought of mine. The phantom assassin and his bride the parasite then slink away and disappear. They do not see or mind the the soul that's left behind, that screams then falls into a forced sleep on its rocket-quick trip across the ocean to a clear and shallow pool... A flash of white. I've thought enough.

"Earth." His cremation. A closed-casket affair, for one whose looks and charm captured the heart of any maiden foolish enough to come near him. The coffin rolls into the incinerator as his loved ones say goodbye, but what they burn is a husk, nothing more. It is a product of the rice and prizes which the spiritual host commanded its mortal symbiote to eat while the two were yet together. They burn a thousand meals, and call it a memorial rather than a culinary failure. The flames close around the box and devour the offering, while the pile of ashes grows, and spreads, and falls through the grate into the collecting tray... Yellow flame to my right. Now for the hardest part.

"Water." Jusenkyo. Akane - both of them. Too many memories, too many feelings... a threat of madness, but I can't afford that; not now. I must FOCUS. For him, for me and for those I've sacrificed to bring this night to be; I must. I think. I need that which touches upon HIM, not me. That comes later. I toss away my solitude, my third and second losses, all my self-owned pains and think only on what HE would want to know about, and that which HE would like most hidden. Water. A bridge, late at night. A young girl in a soft-coloured dress. A splash, desperate grabbing, a search for something that is in ANOTHER puddle, far away, and then... A death. She follows him to the grave after a valiant and inadequate attempt at vengeance. The girl dies a warrior's death, and when her corpse is dredged we see the battle scars; the bloated limbs, the fish bites and jellied tissues... Enough. Blue flame. Only the tip of the pentacle is missing, and though it has been burning in me for a hundred years, I must wait for the body that's fated to arrive before I may light that fire. I must rehearse. I must prepare my vocal chords.

"At last," I manage to croak. The enhanced candle-light warms me, making the tears coming down my cheeks seem as cold as graveyard soil. "So long, and now..."

I feel a tremor. The spiritual sensors that I've built can feel my quarry coming closer. There is no time to waste in remorse or memory; I dry my face with my edge of my cloak and speak the final incantation of the cycle: "Soul."

Mine to resurrect him, and another's to bind him. I think of his smile, of the lightness in my chest that it once caused, of his tricks and kindnesses, and even of his snubs and our first battles. I go back to his death, to what it did to ME and to my perception of HIM. I think of my madness, my passions, my loves and my child and the pools that took them from me. I think of the life I've spent on the reversal of his demise, and I scream. I tear my hair, letting my body do what it has yearned to for hours. I let out the pent-up anger and hate and jealousy for the other three, and then the happiness... He will be here, with me. I will be here, for him. "Wo ai ni."

Green flame. The pentacle is complete, and its fiery tips bend to join in its centre. For a moment, the room is lit as if by a midsummer's sun, and then a pillar of pure white breaks through the roof. It blinds me, it seems to reach to - no, PAST the heavens, and so it must; it will be a beacon, bait and trap for no other prey than two souls. I smile, and speak to he who slumbers still. "

Tonight we'll be together."

--

**EPISODE ONE: RESURRECTION **

--

"... when I woke up everything had gone. I'd slept through the blast, the conflagration, the whole death typhoon."

-Martin Amis

I should have known better than to go on a scavenger hunt with Hibiki Reiraku, especially right before midterms... But the poor boy is so cute! I don't know whether it was the way he moved his hands around, or the helplessness in his voice, or just the way he tossed stray locks of hair back over his bandanna, but his charms won me over in the end.

And now we're lost. Of course.

Were it any other handsome boy, it'd be a pleasure to be alone with him under a moonlit sky, hugging him tightly and pressing my chest to his back while the ends of his bandanna flapped in the wind... But this isn't some other guy. This is "Ratiko" Hibiki, the boy who stranded his last girlfriend in Ethiopia on his way to the local park.

"Rat, are you SURE this is the way to Tokyo Station?" He lifts his right hand from the steering bar to cup the back of his head, and do that little 'a-heh-heh' of his.

"Sure! It's... um... um..."

"Right over the next boulder?" I sigh. Last time I checked, no place in downtown Tokyo looked like a giant's rock garden. "I suppose those little gnarled trees are really skyscrapers in disguise."

No answer, but at least he's steering with both hands now.

"Look, I HAVE managed to schedule a small break to do this with you, but I HAVE to be back by dawn! I have a thermo mid-"

"We're out of range of the navmap."

As he speaks the words, I feel the body I'm holding onto heat itself to an almost painful temperature. "Rat, calm down! You're having one of your anger fevers, and I'd rather not have to explain second-degree burns on my chest."

"Didn't you hear what I said?!"

"You said we're out of range of-" Oh. Uh-oh. "Don't those things," I ask, "have a thousand-K radius?" A shift in the red of his bandanna tells me he's nodded. The cloth between his stomach and my hands begins to singe. "And we..."

"Are out of that radius."

"REIRAKU NO BAKA!" Oops. Didn't mean to squeeze him that hard... nearly toppled us both when he swerved. At least he's cooled down, now - but I haven't. "You DO realise I have four midterms left."

"I have six."

"How're we going to get back?"

A shrug. How DOES he manage it? Like everyone else, at first I laughed at his tales of ending up in Siberia while looking for the bathroom, but when he started bringing back souvenirs...

"A shrug. Is that the BEST you can do?"

"Until we're in comsat range, ye-" He's cut off by a pillar of light rising in front of us. It blinds him, and the hovercycle tilts over. I manage to avoid a wipeout by acting as a counterweight.

"What was-" I begin.

"Rocket," he answers, predicting my question. "Probably military. I've seen enough desert tests at USE."

Right. I keep forgetting that his parents own the largest security and military supplier in the world.

"Do you think this is your... your parents'?"

"Let's find out."

"And if it isn't?"

"I'm sure the guards will tell us WHERE to scram to."

I smile, though he can't see it, and rest my head in the hollow made by the base of his tilted neck. The wind whistles by us, and I enjoy the feel of my leather jacket against my arms, of his soft hair upon my forehead and his stiff but padded stomach throbbing gently against my hands with his breaths and exhalations. If he gets us back home, I might not even have to get mad at him for having landed us in... in wherever we are.

"Rat?"

"Hrm?"

"Do you have ANY idea where we-"

The white beam disappears as quickly as it came, and to our light-adapted eyes the moonlight is as good as total darkness.

"I can't see!"

"It was straight ahead."

"A military project should have lights..."

"Maybe it wasn't a-"

The sound of stone against metal. The hovercycle stops, but we keep going. For a while, anyway. First I hear a thud, then a splash, and after that I find that there are things darker than night... All light is gone, and so am I.

--

He's here. Even if I hadn't heard his arrival, this alertness, this wakefulness would have told me that the spiritual tingling I feel is the presence of the sought-for host. But where? Light must be born from darkness, says the spell. I dare not light an unrequired match, lest all my work should fall apart in the final hour. Besides, Jusenkyo doesn't like to be trifled with. Its edicts must be followed to the letter.

So I walk through the dark, barefoot. The ground is grainy, moist and cold. Even my too-slight weight leaves impressions in the soil. Let it be. It makes it that much easier for me to find my way back. I let my witch sense guide me, but grab a bamboo rod from one of the pools to serve as a cane. I do not fancy falling into yet another spring.

Progress is slow, but the way is short. Not fifty paces from my house I find a flying motorcycle. It is overturned and empty, with all the lights still blinking. No matter. This is not the end of the trail. I turn left, putting my cane before me and...

Hrmph. I prod, then bend down and touch what the bamboo has found. Soft flesh and a small trickle of sticky blood. My host. Strangely, I still feel a pull, almost a yank, to somewhere beyond where the body lies, but in that direction there is nothing but a group of closely-spaced pools... I must be truly old, if even my witch's sight is going. A quick tug shows me that my strength is also fading. I fail to lift the host onto my shoulders, and find I must drag him...

Wait. There, beneath the jacket. Not a him. A her. I look at the moon, and shrug. Not much time left. It's not what I expected, but it's not as if air... as if he weren't used to sharing body space with a female, after all. I move to the head of the body and take one of the girl's hands in each of mine. I'm careful to keep her head above ground and her torso out of the pools as I drag her back across my footprints: brain damage and extra curses are two things I can ill afford.

Once we're back, I move her into position and try to ignore the sizzle as her blood hits the force field. I don't need moonlight to tell me that the drops turn black. I make a quick trip inside the shack to retrieve my candles and replace them, this time around the girl.

"Fire. Air. Earth. Water." It goes faster, this time. The candle-light falls upon her face, and I hiss. A Westerner. And a plain one. Nothing to be done about that now. I drive her visage from my mind, and finish the enchantment. "Soul."

This time, the candle-flames twist and turn to form a spiralling cocoon around the host. When it's complete, I turn off the force field, trusting the spiritual energy to keep the girl above the exposed pool. It works. She floats above his captive soul, waiting for me. There is one ingredient yet to be added to complete the awakening; one final gift. Even now, the pool demands a sacrifice before it will let forth its prize: spirit for spirit, and I can not kill. It would be so easy, if I could...

I close my eyes, and think of how I hate Jusenkyo. I give it that, and more. I give the pool my grief, my madness , offer unto it those years of work I've spend beside it, and my apprenticeship with my predecessor. I add my warrior self - a bogus gift, since that side of me has been dead since my exile. I will my panics and my crazed passions into a separate entity, and cast all but the memory of it into the shimmering water. Goodbye, Xian Pu. Now there is only his Shampoo. Again.

A column of virginal white rises from the spring, surrounded by a corkscrew of foaming water. My offering has been accepted. I sink to my knees and cry, barely noticing the diminution of chest and hair taking place in the luminescent cage. All I see is a blinding flash that dries my tears, and then the girl is gone. I summon enough coherence to switch the field back on before the cocoon completely disappears, then greet the one for whom I've traded a part of my self.

"Nihao, Ranma."

--

I feel nothing. I mean that. No floor, walls, clothes or skin; just my mind floating in an insensual dark... No pain. I open my eyes. There's no blur, or period of adjustment. The unaccustomed crispness of the scene before me reminds me that I need new contacts. But someone has already provided them for me, haven't they?

Two figures, lit by candlelight and apparently unaware of me. I remember falling off the ho... Rat!! I turn my head, finding surprisingly little resistance from my neck muscles. He's nowhere in sight. Just a table, stools, stove and pans, wax candles, scrolls... Am I in some farmer's hut? I don't REMEMBER being rescued...

I try to speak, to let them know I'm awake, but nothing comes out. I can't even move my lips. I try my hands and feet. Nothing. Great. Just great. I must've broken my spine in the fall. That would explain the lack of feeling and movement, but oh those things cost a fortune to fix.

Nothing to do but wait, watch, and hope they notice the identity card in my wallet. Rat, where are you? The larger figure is cloaked, and has been silent for some time. Its raiment now ruffles a bit, and it - she - speaks in heavily accented Japanese.

"A lot change in hundred years. Places go... people die... and there nothing we can do about it."

"The dojo?" asks the other. A shake of the head is his reply. "Pop?"

Silence. "A... Akane?"

"I sorry."

The young one sounds like Rat when he cries. He sobs in spurts which he tries to suppress, presumably to preserve his image of manliness. If only he knew... it only makes it worse.

"But... you... you're alive," he manages. "How did-"

"The women of my village are... Amazon women live long. Or have you forgotten great-grandmother?"

"Forget? FORGET?! How CAN I forget? You tell me this story, and it must be true, 'cause you're... you're... not like ya used to be, but... for me, it isn't LIKE yesterday... it IS yesterday!"

"You still think this a dream?" Another shake of the head. From the young one, this time.

"I believe you." He punches a wall. "This ain't no dream. It's a nightmare."

"You want go back in pool?" The old one is angry. "You want go back to be soul stuck with no paradise, no damnation? Be grateful! Shampoo make you ALIVE! Before today, you just spirit world equivalent of vegetable!"

"Yeah, you brought me back, but the way I see it, you've... you've gotten rid of everything I-" Tonight is a night for tears. The young one turns his face away from the elder's crying, and notices my open eyes at last. "She's up."

He walks closer to me, and I realise he's dressed in a famil... Wait a minute. Aren't those MY clothes? He seems taken aback, as well, for he lowers his eyes once in candlelight range, and blushes. I follow his gaze, and see the reason why.

Funny. I didn't know I body-blushed.

Shame and embarrassment share space in my mind. I'm mortified. Naked in front of a teenage kid and a crone... Deity, what if I'm NOT paralysed?! What if this is all some twisted sexual trap by a pair of deviants who-

I open my eyes wider than I thought possible, and even the young pervert takes time off from staring at my hips to stagger backwards with a surprised 'Yah!'. I seem to be... growing a set of clothes. I'm still blushing, but the blush shapes my skin into a pallid jacket, shirt and jeans - my favourite outfit, which I left behind in Tokyo.

I must be hallucinating. They've fed me some paralytic drug, and it's playing with my mind. I don't want to go like this. I don't want to go at all, but drugged and raped is on the top of my 'to avoid' list.

Rat!! Never around when you need him.

The elder one comes closer, and I see her face. Clearly aged, but the only wrinkles are crows' feet around her eyes, and her sky-blue hair has only a few gray streaks in it. She nods. A signal?

"I take ward off mouth now, but you no scream, okay? And no try move, please. You still weak. Take time to get used to get soul knocked out of body. Like tooth extraction." She looks at her still-spooked companion.

"Take time for both of you. So," she says, addressing me again, "nice girl promise?"

I nod. She crouches and puts a hand to my mouth, removing a slip of paper I hadn't noticed before. I can speak, now, and I do.

"Where am I?"

"Jusenkyo."

"And that is in...?"

"China."

China?! I'm going to KILL Rat. If I find him. It's not as bad as Ethiopia, but... geeze.

"What do you want of me?"

"That... that take more than one word to explain." She pulls up a stool, and sits on it before telling me. Everything. She tells me the story of Jusenkyo, and of a boy who was cursed there a century ago. She speaks of his murder, of her efforts to reverse his death and of his soul's entrapment. It's a tale full of ghosts and magic, spells and gruesome vengeance.

I don't believe a word of it.

Until, in anger, she picks up the stool she's sitting on and throws it THROUGH me. That's pretty convincing, and my absolute clear-headedness, more than I've ever felt before, rules out the possibility of drugs.

"So, you're... dead?" I ask the boy who wears my clothes and has been listening as attentively as I. He nods, and puts his right hand behind his head while feebly 'aheheh'ing. Just like Rat.

"I'm Ranma Saotome. Or was. Or, I mean..." He sighs. "Sorry 'bout all this."

"Kim Thompson. You should be."

--

I've read enough about ghosts to know that I can't see them, but everything else about her matches what I've learned. The instant I remove the wards from her hands and feet, this 'Kim' is free to move - and she does. She tries to walk, then gives up and glides phantom-fashion across the room while Ranma watches. What's that in his eyes? Interest? Pity? Mistrust? I can't read him as well as I used to. And the girl... I feel less guilt at what I've done when I see how she enjoys her new form, poking at everything around her to see how hard she must push before going through it. It appears that disembodied spirits can affect the material world, but only if they're gentle.

Ranma's Akane would not have made a good ghost. Her violent tendencies would have sent her spiraling through everything in her path, until she left the very world-sphere. This one can learn. Already she is picking up small bits of string, toppling scrolls... Small things, but admirable progress. She stops.

"Somethin' wrong?" Ranma's question.

"Just a sec," she says. "I wonder..." Her eyes close and her clothing changes. Her body too, I see. Appropriate areas expand and contract, and in the end I can no longer call her plain. Her smile, once she opens her eyes and looks down at herself, tells me that she thinks the same. I glance at Ranma. He is transfixed, dumbfounded. If he were not bonded to this girl, and were she not bodiless, I would be tempted to disfigure the competition. But I am not mad. Not now. I gave that bit of me away, remember?

Right.

I start to clear my throat, but the all-too-nice girl speaks before I draw the attention of my beloved.

"Rat would drown in his own blood if he could see me now," she grins.

"Rat?" My question.

"Hibiki Reiraku, the boy who drove the hovercycle I arrived on. Ratiko's his nickname."

Ranma leaps up, and my interest, too, is piqued. When magic is involved, such things are not coincidence.

"Hibiki?!"

Kim nods. "He's probably halfway to Guatemala by now. That boy gets lost in closets."

I'm forced to chuckle. Some things never change. Ranma prods her and she speaks more of her black-haired friend, focusing on his intelligence, speed and lack of navigational skills. She goes on about a scavenger hunt, and their deviation from their planned course of travel. When her story reaches its end, I freeze. The last thing she remembers hearing is a splash, and in Jusenkyo, a splash means...

I curse myself. My witch's sense was right all along; the yank I felt towards the pools was telling me that the chosen host, the body fated to hold Ranma's soul, had fallen into one of the cursed springs by accident. In my foolishness, I ignored it, and now... Now my poor groom and this girl are bound in a union of error. Oh, that I could kill, and try again... I should have tossed my conscience into the spring with all the rest, but now all chances at a remedy have flown away. Or have they? They might have just... flown in. Never before tonight had I seen a creature so intent on breaking into my home. When magic is involved...

"Excuse me." During my reverie, Kim has moved on to matters of her academic life. I think she said she studied... physics? Probably, for airen looks pale. I stand and move towards the stove. The pot I left upon the range is shaking violently. Funny. I didn't think I'd left the fire on. The bat I'd clubbed and captured soars out of the vessel, sending the aluminium lid clattering across the floor.

The ghost and Ranma turn around in time to see it grow and melt into a very angry, very wet and very naked young man. Falling to the floor doesn't help his disposition any. I jerk a thumb towards the youth.

"Is your friend, yes?"

--

So it turns out Rat's a vampire. If I'm a ghost, why not? All we need now is a unicorn to come along and give us a lift back to U of Tokyo...

I always DID want to see what Rat looked like beneath his turtleneck and jeans. I just didn't think it'd be this soon, or that he'd be covered in mushrooms and herbs. Ah, well, never look a gift horse in the mouth, they say. Not that it's his MOUTH I'm staring at. Geeze, I hope I'm not doing that pink glow thing again. Wait a sec. That slice on his chest...

"Isn't that garlic?"

Rat snarls, the garnishes upon him sizzle, and the garlic becomes roast garlic. "Towel," he growls. The crone grabs a rag and tosses it to Reiraku, who's all too prompt in wrapping it around his midsection. Ah. There. He's noticed the garlic. He reaches for it and... eats it?

"I thought vampires didn't LIKE ga-"

"Vampire? You think I'm a VAMPIRE?"

Well, yes. "But you... the bat..." My, I feel foolish.

"Haven't you been LISTENING, Kim? I know _I_ have. Bats have excellent hearing, and you wouldn't believe the acoustics in that kettle. No, I'm not a vampire, Kim. It's only thanks to your friends," a hand wave shows that he means Ranma and Shampoo, "that I have seen the INSIDE of a POT!"

"Spring of drowned bat?" offers Ranma.

"Guess again. Spring of attractive drowned female fruit bat." I'm not going to laugh. But I do. "You think it's FUNNY?!"

Yes, actually.

"It's the tail end of Jusenkyo's fruit bat mating season, and guess who's the only available female in the area?"

This time, all three of us find it impossible to contain our mirth. The crone looks like she's going to lose a lung or two.

"Ah, yes, NOW you laugh. But what happened when I tried to come in? Miss Cannibal tried to turn me into stew!"

He must have been heating up during his story, because all the herbs on him now spontaneously flambe.

"Flying fox soup is Shampoo hometown specialty!" I must give the woman credit for saying that cheerfully and with a straight face. Rat, however, isn't impressed. I can tell by the way his loincloth starts smoking. Fire in his loins, indeed...

"Your family name's Hibiki, right?" Ranma defuses the Rat-bomb before his fig leaf burns away. Reiraku turns to him and nods, calmer and cooled down. Honestly, the boy has more mood swings than Childra at mid-month. "Know a guy called Ryouga?"

"Y... yes. By reputation. He's my great-grandfather."

"Figures. So the ol' coot actually married. Huh. Never would've guessed... Who was it?"

"Who was what?"

"His wife." Rat frowns, and Shampoo looks away.

"We... my family doesn't like to talk about her."

"Why not?"

"She went insane and destroyed half a district with her spatula. It's still held against us."

"Spatula?"

Sounds bonkers to ME. But to HIM... Ranma's face; it's so... sad. The news hit him hard. Friend of his? You'd think a dead guy would be hard to phase. But there... that's not just one tear moving down his face and neck. In the sunlight, it almost looks like -

Sunlight. It's tomorrow. I know I don't have one in my current state, but my heart beats faster, anyway.

"Sh... shouldn't we be going?" I ask. Rat laughs.

"Where to?"

"Well... BACK. To the university."

"You're going back into res with that jock attached to you?"

"I don't have a choice."

"And I don't have clothes. And you KNOW how the KF LOVES indecent exposure..."

"Well..." I blush a bit, but manage to get it out. "I don't find it all that indecent, truth be told."

And the dear boy nosebleeds, as expected. Yes, I cheated by manipulating my neckline while he watched, but I take my victories where I can get them.

"You're... looking nicer than usual, too..." Ah. So he DID notice. "But you're not quite all there. If your curse works like mine, couldn't you just... switch and let Deadbeat stay with Madame Mim here?"

A good idea, but before I can say so, Shampoo vetoes it. "It no work. Wandering limited."

"What?"

"When ghost form go more than one width of Jusenkyo from body, get transported back, like rubber band."

"How wide is Jusenkyo?"

"Eight hundred metre. Maybe thousand."

"Geeze. Isn't there ANY way to change it?"

The crone shakes her head. "I try. This all I can do. Second best is bound to pool width. This better, no?"

I have to agree. "So... I have to drag this boy with me to Tokyo."

"Yes."

"And we have to... coexist."

"Yes."

"For how long?" She looks me in the eye.

"Life."

"Please tell me you're joking." Another shake of the head. It seems to be her favourite word in body language.

"Shampoo sorry."

"And Reiraku feeling a draft. Don't you have a spare cloak, or something?"

"In closet." Rat starts off. Towards the door.

"Wait! He'll get lo-"

Ranma chuckles. "Skip it. I know the drill." He calls to Reiraku. "Hey, bat-boy! The closet's THIS way."

I smile, and notice that Shampoo smiles with me.

--

They don't realise what's happened. The laws of heaven and biology have been repealed for them today, and they behave as though they were watching a clever sideshow at a carnival. The nature of the spell allows anyone with a Jusenkyo curse to be able to see any ghost bonded to a living person through said curse. This is cold comfort. Kim treats her ghosthood like a toy, the Rat's anger is that of a spoiled child, and Ranma... Ranma is withdrawn. He's retracted into a turtle-like shell.

He does not know, and does not WANT to know, how his death has changed me and the others. Ever carefree, he cannot imagine taking responsibility for the consequences of his demise; he refuses to enjoy the life I've patched together for him, for that would imply acknowledgment of not just one, but of a flood of debts. He always was ungrateful, but in this...

If I had wanted a body with vacant eyes, I would have stuck to squirrels. Then again, who am I to talk? I never thought 'til now of what would happen AFTERWARDS; of what he would do, of how he would cope with a new world. My planning always ended at this moment, when a part of me assumed that everything would be set right, and all the toil and grief and pain and forfeited experience would be revealed to have been worth it.

Guess what. That isn't happening.

They say they're going to Tokyo. I could go, too. Mousse's children are always asking when I'll visit - this is my chance to take them up on the offer. Legally, I still hold title to the Nekohanten, so if worse comes to worst...

"I'm going with you," I pronounce, forgetting to accent my Japanese. They don't notice.

"Where?" one of them asks.

"Tokyo."

"Where will you stay?" I tell them. Kim and Ranma nod their agreement.

"Now that that's settled," says Reiraku, "what if we go find my hovercycle?"

"Who gets the seats?" Kim.

"What do you mean?"

"There's four of us and room for two, but-" she grins in a way which I don't entirely like - "two of us can change to take no space at all."

"Fine with me," says Ranma. "I'll do the ghost thing, an' bat-boy can go in the pot."

"What?!" This one's dangerous. Before he can complain, I douse him with water from the sink and stuff his bat form into my pressure cooker, vicing the lid into place and leaving the steam valve open so he... so SHE can breathe.

"SQUEAK!"

I shrug in response to an odd look from Kim. "It only way. He violent boy." Both Kim and Ranma nod.

"So, when we leave?" "Any time!"

The girl is positively beaming. Then her colour scheme darkens. "Uh-oh."

"What wrong?"

"Well, the reason that we ended up here in the first place was that lost boy over there," she points at the pot, "got us out of range of the navmap."

"Navmap?" Ranma asks. Navigational map, dearest.

"Tells you where you are at any time, within a certain range. For Rat's cheapo model, that's only a thousand K from downtown Tokyo."

"He certainly is a Hibiki..." Ranma echoes my own thoughts.

"You say you not know how get back?"

"I... I'm not sure..."

"Couldn't we hire a guide?"

"Let Shampoo take look." Ranma looks at Kim, who shrugs. I take this as my cue to exit.

In daylight, I see that the crash site is only a few dozen steps from my hut. The lights on the hovercycle's display are still blinking, and one of the backlit buttons reads... Ah. So THAT'S what was wrong. I flip a switch, and hide my smile as I return.

"I think I fix," I tell them. A slight understatement.

"WHAT?"

"I think I fix."

"What do you mean?"

"I push button, and map of China come on screen, with blinking dot at Jusenkyo."

"Lemme see!" says the girl. And she does. When I lead her and my betrothed to the 'cycle, she drags her hand over her face. "The minute that fledermaus is human again," she vows, "he's going to be SORRY you didn't cook him."

"What's wrong?" asks Ranma. Kim points at a button.

"See this? L-R-S. Long Range Sensors. The bloody thing was right here, under his nose all the time, and the IDIOT didn't notice!" She growls. "I THOUGHT it was odd that rich parents like his would put a substandard navmap on his bike, especially considering..."

"Enough talk. We lose too much time already. You two want change now?" Jusenkyo, never truly comfortable, is decidedly unpleasant today, and I am eager to leave. To start again.

"Just a sec." Ranma looks back as he dashes back to the shack. "There's something I gotta do."

Do? Too late, I realise what he's planning.

"SHISHI HOUKODAN!"

I chided him, albeit silently, for keeping his feelings inside of himself, and now he's let them out in the most explosive way possible. Last night's pyrotechnics are reversed - a column of white-blue fire falls from the sky onto the pool of drowned... what WOULD I call it now? Drowned ME? Ex-HIM? A spiral of foaming water twirls around the beam, dissolving into mist, then all is gone. Only a hole in the ground with charred edges marks the site where once my life, his soul and my cast-off emotions were held captive.

This is trouble. He's HURT Jusenkyo, and it will not forget. In living memory, no one has dared destroy a spring. The place will haunt him; it will demand satisfaction, and revenge, and unless I or another can bend nature and destiny more than I have already managed to, it will succeed.

I want to run.

"You ready to switch?" I ask again. I hope they do not note the tremor in my voice. Not that I wait for an answer, of course. While Kim opens her mouth, I uncork a thermos and splash the returning Ranma with its contents. The boy and girl switch places and solidities. Ranma's spirit form is unconscious, just as Kim's was after her first change.

"He's..."

"Shampoo tell you already; it like tooth extraction. Get kicked out of body big shock, little death. Take time to get used to it."

"What do we do?"

"Strap bat-pot to bike, get in driver seat and wait me to get on in back. Leave Ranma here."

"But-"

"He warp back, remember?"

Kim nods. She does as she is told, and the minute I have my arms safely around her, she starts the throttle. I look behind me, and all I see is dust.

--

"Soon the people will all be gone and I will be alone forever."

-Martin Amis

--

**END RESURRECTION**


	27. Envoy

Tokyo is burning.

The fire mirrors the flame I feel within, and the stench of soot and smoke and human flesh fills my nostrils. It is a glorious smell; the smell of victory, of triumph over enemies purified.

The heat consumes them, reducing them to to innocuous piles of dust. I am that heat, and the heat is me - we work as a unit towards the final Cleansing - all who stand before me fall as I swing my blade.

My goal is clear. I will not be deterred. My orders remain the same...

_**This is not good...**_

I charge forward through the mass of people. A woman looks at me, pleading for mercy, asking me why. For a fleeting moment, I am confused...

Her eyes are watering, her mouth drawn open as she nervously runs her hands through her matted hair, begging, holding up her soot-caked, sweaty hands to show me that there is no weapon there, trembling...

_**This could be worse than what we allowed that Joketsuzoku woman to do.**_

_**You know it was necessary. He has unfinished business.**_

_**Gentlemen, may I remind you both that we are now concerned with a different young man?**_

Then I remember my orders. She is the enemy, and the enemy is to be annihilated. One of my throwing spatulas is enough to silence her.. She will entreat no longer.

Now, for the rest of them. I march steadily forwards, scanning the area, squinting past the corpses of those whom I've already dealt with, until I see-

Another figure, at the end of the street.

I slow in my approach.

A female, silhouetted against the flames of the burning building behind her. The shadows are too deep to see her face, but her shape, her 'feel'... She is somehow... Familiar.

She steps closer, then closer still.

I am transfixed. I reach for my throwing, then my combat spatula, but my limbs will not respond - all my energy is absorbed by a different task.

I must see her face. This I know, stronger than any orders I may have to carry out, and my body accepts the primacy of this objective.

As I watch, her countenance brightens somewhat, but before her features are distinguishable, she is joined by three others. Another female, this one with short hair, a male with a pigtail and another male in a cloak.

They, too, are familiar.

The first woman is close enough so that she is almost out of the shadows. The light shines upon her chin, teasing my petrified form with the promise of a revlation... It dances for a moment on her lip, then rises to her nose, and when it reaches the level of her eyes...

--

**ENVOY**

Yet another offering from

The Anything-Goes School of Indiscriminate Fanfic Writing

by Erin Mills

Edited by 4cw6

--

Ranma 2096 characters and situations used with permission. Takahashi's aren't.

--

"We're on a mission from God."

-Dan Aykroyd, 'The Blues Brothers'

"There's the scarlet thread of murder running through the colourless skein of life, and our duty is to unravel it, and isolate it, and expose every inch of it."

-Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, 'A Study in Scarlet'

--

**Somewhere in Tokyo, Fall 2096**

Sable sat up in his bed with a start. _The dream again. _The dream that had plagued his sleep every night for the past year.

"_Always that woman," _Sable thought as he lay back down. "_I always nearly see her face, and then I... Wake up. _Flashes of the reverie came back to him.

He frowned as he struggled to remember. It was so... Difficult...

But he was sure, they weren't- they-

_No... Not exactly the same...The other three figures. Those were...New_.

Which meant that his imbalance was increasing. He'd mentioned it to the Executress, and she had been concerned, as might be expected, especially when the neural depressors did nothing to eliminate the visions, but had tolerated it when she found that it was identical each night - only a doubling of his psychiatric examinations had been ordered.

If it was CHANGING...

It just wouldn't do... Sakuin would be disappointed if she knew; to have dreams was crime enough. To have them vary was failure.

Stones don't dream.

Sable took the metal helmet next to his bed and plugged it into the computer terminal that had been installed there for the purpose, then slipped it over his head.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, gathering all his inner strength and focusing on destroying whatever phantoms might be roaming in his consciousness. One by one, he located them, and felled them - questions about the meaning, fleeting memories of what he'd seen, all these were cleaved by his mental avatar, leaving his mindscape as empty as possible before flipping the switch.

The neural depressor hummed into liveliness, and SE-1B-YL dropped into a regulated, dreamless sleep.

--

_**Damn! I was sure it would work this time.**_

_**We can't keep this up. We don't have the time. I figure it will be only a few more months before he goes the way of his mother.**_

_**Hmmm...**_

_**What is it, Mittsuko?**_

_**I think it is time to implement our last option.**_

_**You can't be serious.**_

_**I am. As you said, Futatsu, we're running out of time. And she IS our best bet. She, too, has unfinished business.**_

_**And what about the other three? Who knows how she'll react when she meets up with them... Especially the Wanderer.**_

_**She has become a very bitter woman, Hitotsu. I don't believe they'll be a problem. As for the Wanderer, I think he'll stay out of her way if he's sufficently...warned..**_

_**And Skeride?**_

_**Had better watch her step. Our option still harbors a VERY large grudge against the Assassin. I don't think that Skeride will be a problem...**_

--

Ryouga walked along the streets. Back in Tokyo again, only this time it was different. He hadn't just STUMBLED onto the city, he'd been DRAWN here.

At every crossroad, every turning point over the last few days, he felt a spiritual tug, forcing him into a set path. There had never been any doubt as to the direction he needed to travel. And now, that guiding force was gone.

He had reached his destination.

Who or what it was that'd caused it, he didn't know, but whatever it was wanted him here. Tonight.

He looked around, staring at the dimly-lit and shadowed shapes. The area looked oddly familiar...

He didn't know why. Deity knew Tokyo had changed a lot in the years since his death.

Then, the moon vanished behind the clouds, and the answers to his questions were made painfully clear. The streetlamps all went went out at once, and Ryouga's own ki now provided the only illumination. Until...

A tug again, but of a different kind... This one was more familiar, more like the beacon he'd steered by for more than half-a-dozen decades...

Another ki prescence.

_A ghost?_

The feeling grew.

_Too large... There'd have to be ten... No... Twenty of them... More like... A place... _thought the Wanderer. _But that's ridiculous. This isn't a graveyard, and who ever heard any other place having this kind of k--_

His train of thought was abruptly halted as a huge blue column of spiritual fire burst from the clouds and struck the sidewalk in front of him, sending the ghost flying. Ryouga sat up and watched as the ki-flame shifted and pulsed, and finally forming an image of a two-storey building.

An old building, not like the new aerodynamic skyscrapers or geodesic domes. It had plain, white-washed walls, a sliding door in the front off to one side and a large window next to it. Hanging above the entrance was a large canopy. Upon it, in unnaturally-glowing letters, were two words that Ryouga knew well:

Ucchan's Okonomiyaki.

--

At the same time, Childra Jansen and Tendo Akane were walking across the quad at the University of Tokyo.

"So, you're telling me that _Ranma_ put on a dress and tried to screw up your date with Ryouga?"

"Yup," said Akane, cheerful for once, remembering the time. "Things got even more confused when Ukyou accidentally swiped the wig off his head. Ryouga was not thrilled to find that the 'other woman' was Ranma."

Childra laughed. "I wish I'd been around to see that." She suddenly noticed that the ghost had gone very quiet.

"Is something wrong, lass?"

Akane jumped, startled out of her reverie.

"What?" she asked. "Oh, no. I was just remembering Ryouga and Ukyou. Neither of them deserved to go through what they did. Especially Ukyou."

"It must have been hard."

"Yes," Akane said, swallowing. "I hope she's found peace at last. I was there when Ryouga died. I saw him go... Through the tunnel, I mean, but I wish I'd been there for Ukyou, even in spirit."

"I don't think you could've done it any other way, lass."

"You know what I mean." Jansen nodded. Akane continued. "No one should have to die alone."

Childra was about to say something, when a blaze of blue light appeared in the sky. Both girls' attentions were drawn to it.

"What IS that?" asked Akane.

"I don't know," Childra said, beginning to run toward the light. "But if I had to venture a guess, I'd say somebody just blew into town!"

--

Ryouga stood transfixed, staring at the ki-based replica of the old restaurant. What to do? Go in? Stay out here? And the more important question: If this was Ucchan's, who was its proprietor?

The question was answered a few moments later when the door opened, and Kuonji Ukyou stepped out.

She looked somewhat different than the last time he saw her. She, too, had reversed her age to her mid-teens, and was dressed in a variant of her usual outfit. The tunic was now black with white trim. The bandolier was in its usual place. Ukyou's hair bow, however, was not. Her long brown hair hung freely, and around her throat was a new accessory -- a delicate white scarf.

There was also something else Ryouga noticed. The carefree look she had in her teens was gone, replaced by a bitter, cynical expression. It was the look of one who has seen too much grief and pain in her life; the look of someone who has, quite literally, seen Hell.

When her eyes landed on the person who stood before her, hatred was added to her emotional pantheon.

"Ukyou?" Ryouga gasped. A cynical grin crossed her face.

"Well, well, if it isn't my _darling_ husband," she spat. "Still the champion of the living-impaired?"

"How--? Why--?"

"Don't strain yourself, sugar. I'm not here for you. I'm on a mission."

"Mission?" confusion crossed Ryouga's face.

"I'm here to keep our son from doing something stupid."

"Kioku? He's a grandfather. What could he possibly--"

Ukyou shook her head. "Same old Ryouga, all brawn and no brain. We have another son."

"Another son? But we never...I mean, since you--er--"

"Went crazy? Don't worry, you can say it. But I'm quite sane now, thank you. And you're right, we didn't. But the fact remains that we have another son, and he is quite possibly the biggest threat Tokyo has at the moment."

Ryouga blinked. "How?"

She shook her head again. "I can't tell you. I'm not allowed. Just stay out of my way, Ryouga, and you won't get hurt."

Ryouga stared at his former spouse. "You show up out of nowhere after nearly 75 years, tell me we have another son and then expect me to forget this happened and stay out of your way? Sorry, I can't oblige."

He stepped forward, intending to get some answers. Ukyou's eyes turned to pure red slits and a bolt of green ki energy shot from the aura around her and thrust him back to his original location.

"I warned you," she said coldly. "I have a job to do and no time to answer questions. Just go about your business and pretend this meeting never took place."

"You ARE my business!" Ryouga yelled. "I CARED about you!"

"HA! You cared about me?! Then where were you when I needed you? Where were you those nights I needed someone to talk to, to tell me that everything was going to be all right?! Where were you on some days became so bad I could barely keep the shop open? Where were you when I lost the store? When I felt reality slipping away from me? Where were you when the only recourse to me left was to make all of Nerima feel the pain that I felt?! Where were you those days in the sanatorium when everyone would come to pity the poor lunatic girl?! Where were you then, you son of a bitch?!

"Where were you the day that I died? When the pain in my chest became so great that my heart exploded? Where were you when all of our descendants decided to sponge me from their memories? Where were you three years ago when I had a chance to make everything right, and Gosunkugi Skeride did THIS to me?!"

She ripped the scarf from her throat, revealing an angry red scar that pulsed with a light all its own. A red line of pain against a green background of hatred. Ukyou let Ryouga get a good look at it, then replaced the piece of cloth.

Ryouga swallowed awkwardly._ She's right. I had the chance to take care of Skeride and I didn't. Now, because of this, she hates me. Maybe if I had been there..._

"LISTEN TO ME, GOD DAMN IT!" Ukyou's angered voice snapped him back to attention.

"I've spent the last three years in limbo thanks to her, because no one was there to help me. Now, once again, I have a chance to put my soul to rest, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let anyone or anything stand in my way. I don't want to hurt you, Ryouga, but I've been given enough power to do what I have to do and to protect myself from Skeride. I'm more than a match for you. So if you'll just stay out of my way, we'll both be much happier."

The wall of ki dissipated and Ryouga found himself able to move again. He saw the restaurant begin to fade as Ukyou walked away from him.

"Wait!" he called. Ukyou stopped mid-stride.

"I have nothing further to say to you." she said, without turning.

"Isn't there anything I can do to help?"

Ukyou slowly turned her face towards him. Her expression was blank, and she spoke with deliberation. "No. I have a job to do and I'll do it myself. Goodbye, Ryouga."

She turned once again and walked off into the night.

Ryouga stared after her, concerned...

And VERY frightened.

--

Childra and Akane rounded the corner. The blue light had been joined by a green one a few moments ago and now both were fading.

As they turned, Akane's jaw dropped. Vanishing into the darkness was Ucchan's, back after being demolished so many years ago. And two figures, both clearly ghosts, conversing. She couldn't make any major details out on the woman, but the man conformed to all the descriptions of the Wanderer. The hood of his cape was down, but his back was to them. It wasn't only the sights which shocked her, but the words as well...

"Isn't there anything I can do to help?"

"No. I have a job to do and I'll do it myself. Goodbye, Ryouga. "

Akane's senses reeled. _Ryouga? The voices, they couldn't be..._

But her own non-corporeal ears confirmed they were.

Further confirmation occured when the Wanderer turned around and the ghost and the human found themselves face to face with Hibiki Ryouga.

Ryouga's eyes widened. He hurredly pulled the hood of his cape back up and leaped to the top of the streetlight. From there, he jumped up to the rooftops. Then he was gone.

Akane felt her legs begin to give way. She sat down on the pavement. Childra sat down next to her and tried to assess what she had seen. The phrase she uttered a few moments later summed it neatly up...

"Oh, shit."


	28. Episode 2: Wacky Hijinx

**PROLOGUE**

The dark was also warm, and Ranma could almost see an orange glow beyond his eyelids. Noise and voices were coming into being, but he couldn't understand them - nor did he try to. He waited until they forced recognition upon him to awaken. Snippets of remembrance slithered through his mind.

Pain. Death. Ghosts. Age. Loss. How silly. He must have eaten the wrong thing last night to have such nightmares.

But how could it have been the wrong thing? Kasumi had cooked dinner, and she never made mistakes in the kitchen. Were those kitchen sounds, then?

He decided to pay attention. Sirens, shouts, loudspeakers, chanting and a million conversations drowning out what could probably pass as music. Not kitchen sounds. Ranma decided that any further sleep was liable to be interrupted by the noise around him, so he opened his eyes.

All he saw at first was green, but boy, did he ever see it. Small emerald scales forced themselves upon his field of vision with perfect detailing, clearer than he'd ever seen anything before. His mind was brimming with visual stimuli, but he didn't have a headache - if anything, he was getting a bit of a rush.

He wondered about the source of the miraculous green, and looked up. A pair of gently sloping mounds, making him feel as if his forehead should be moister than it felt. He looked down. Legs. Which meant...

"Eyah!" Ranma tried to force himself away from the Kodachi look-alike, and Newton's third law sent him sailing through a row of her friends, leaving him face-to-face with a paper-mache version of his female half. With horns. And a tail.

_**STRIKE **_

Someone swung a bokken, cracking the pinata open and spraying the ground with cheap metal bells, black and white candies and pictures of... him? Before he could look closer, a circle of screaming girls closed in on Ranma, falling on all fours to collect as many of the trinkets as they could. They kicked, and screamed, and tackled each other until all was once more darkness.

When the light returned, the scenery had changed for the worse.

In front of him now was a larger-than-life portrait of a scantily-clad Kodachi hugging a ridiculously bishounen version of himself. No way he'd ever allow his hair to grow that long. Or to fall against his eyes like that. Was his chin really that pointy? He could poke someone's eye out with that thing...

"Oh. You're awake." Ranma lowered his head and realized he'd been looking at a mural painted on the side of a skyscraper. Whatever was happening to his eyes made it difficult to gauge distances, since nothing blurred. It all stayed perfectly in focus.

"You look confused," the voice continued. "Don't worry about it. The change had ME disoriented, too, and you HAVE been warping for the last thousand K's."

He was standing... no, he was hovering next to that girl from what he'd hoped had been a dream, on that weird motorcycle of hers. They appeared to be in a traffic jam, though it wasn't any wonder that the cars weren't moving. They didn't have any wheels.

"Well," said Kim, "at least now I know why your name sounded so familiar. I've been hearing it chanted over loudspeakers ever since we entered Tokyo."

This was Tokyo? It looked nothing like the city he thought he knew. Everything had a different tone to it, everything FELT different. The air smelled of burnt circuitry and sweat, the light was bluer than it should be, and all the movement that he saw was either much too fast or much too slow. With the crowds on the sidewalks shouting at each other, and the girls crying his name, Ranma felt like he was an invited guest into someone else's dream. Or his own nightmare.

"Where's Shampoo?" There was a pressure cooker strapped to the side of the hovercycle, as he remembered there should be, but the Amazon was nowhere in sight.

"I dropped her off at that restaurant of hers. The owner seemed to know her, so I thought it was OK. Rat was making too much noise, and she clubbed him one. I'm told he'll be back to his senses by morning."

"Is he going to be-"

"All right? Sure. He's taken worse hits before." She gestured at the roadside. "Anything you can tell me about this stuff?"

Ranma looked, and tried to understand. The streets were paved with leotarded women. Some were holding placards, others shouting through megaphones, and every block or so there was another pinata. Bold red lettering announced the '100th Anniversary of the Temporary Ascension: 1996-2096' against white cloth banners. Up ahead, a small boy with curly hair was directing traffic, dressed in black and blue body armour. Nope. There was nothing at all he could tell her.

"They can't see me?"

"What do YOU think? If they could see you, I don't think they'd let us through."

"Oh."

"Now would be a good time to learn to glide," said Kim, "unless you want to continue warping. I think they're about to let us through."

Ranma nodded, scarcely listening. He was still trying to take everything in. The buildings were taller than he'd ever seen, the cars floated rather than rolled, and that policeman...

"What's a little tyke doin' workin' as a traffic cop? You guys repealed child labour laws, or somethin'?"

"That's not a boy. It's a Cecil - they're the Kunou Foundation's city troops."

"Kunou Foundation?"

"They didn't have it back when you... went away? I thought it'd been around forever."

"Never heard of it. The only Kunou I know's a clown."

"Huh. Kind of odd they'd bring them out today. I suppose they were worried that the Church of Kodachi's celebrations would start a riot. Can't say I blame them."

"Church of Kodachi?"

"Look around you."

"They're kooky, but they look kinda harmless."

"There's been a lot of bad press for them lately. Seems they've been linked to theft and murder. Nothing proven yet, but you know how tabloids are, especially when hundreds of pretty girls are involved. The Cecils are tough, though. Rumour has it that they're cyborgs, and they're sure as heck not human."

"So, um... it'd be bad to run that red light right now, right?" Kim hit the brake just in time to avoid doing just that in front of one of the tiny soldiers.

"Yes, it would have been bad." Her voice was shaking. "Very bad."

Gliding had come almost intuitively to Ranma, and in no time at all he'd learned to match his own speed to the hovercycle's, and stop when the vehicle did.

"This isn't so bad," he commented while trying a pirouette. "In fact, it's kinda fun."

"Good, 'cause you're going to have to get used to it."

"Whaddya mean?"

A passing girl stuffed a pamphlet into Kim's jacket pocket. She was cackling and dressed like the Kodachi Ranma remembered, and had used the opportunity afforded by the stop light to hop from car hood to car hood and distribute propaganda through opened windows. The number of open windows, of course, was a decreasing function of time.

Kim picked up the handout, glanced at it and held up the cover so that Ranma could see it. The same painting he'd seen as a mural was featured prominently on the front of the booklet.

"THIS is what I mean."

"Hey, look, it's not my fault!"

"Maybe not, but until I find a way to change your name and get you plastic surgery..." The light turned green. Kim put away the pamphlet and started the hovercycle. "Heck, I don't even know if plastic surgery will LAST through one of our switcheroos... but until I find a way to make you unrecognisable, I'm keeping the body. You're enough of a hindrance to my social life WITHOUT having a bunch of crazed nuns in leotards running after you. After us."

"Hindrance to your social life? How'd Kodachi start a church, anyway?"

"How should I know? They don't have these crackpot religions where I come from, and I haven't paid all that much attention to them since I got here. Next time you have the body, why don't you go up and ASK one of them? I'm sure they'd be THRILLED to tell you."

"Come on. It ain't that bad."

"Oh, no? Look at it my way. I'm bound for life to a dead minor who I don't even know, my best friend's out cold in a pressure cooker, and any thoughts of romance are out of the question, because if I'm not careful, you might walk through the wrong wall or warp in, and I'd be guilty of corruption."

"Who said anything about wanting to walk in on you?"

Kim shrugged. "Like I said, I don't know you."

"Look, I didn't ASK to be brought back to life!"

"What a coincidence. I didn't ask for it, either." Silence. More banners, shouting, and prodigious filling of leotards by athletically-built young ladies.

"Where are we goin', anyway?"

"Rat's house. Much as I enjoyed seeing him naked, the boy needs clothes before we can let him turn bat. Back. Turn BACK."

"It'd serve him right to run around in 'is birthday suit for a bit."

"No it wouldn't."

"You got no sense of humour."

"Indecent exposure is against the law."

"So? As if anyone would-"

Kim shook her head. "Not anyone. Someone. The Cecils have a big brother; he's the police commissioner. I've seen him lift cars like barbells on the news. You have to be insane to break the law in downtown Tokyo."

"Insane... like all these girls?"

"Exactly."

Silence.

"So, where's his house? He lives in style, yeah?" Ranma thought he remembered something being said about a Hibiki fortune.

"A mansion. We're going to his aunt's first, though."

"What for?"

"To get a key to the house. Rat's parents are impossible to reach during the day unless you're the CEO of a multinational, and his own stuff stayed with his clothes, at Jusenkyo. Once in the house, we can get duplicates of Rat's credit cards and ID along with his clothes, and then use THOSE to get a new key for his res room."

"You think a lot, don't you?"

"That's why I'm in physics."

--

**EPISODE 2: WACKY HIJINX**

--

"A haze of hunger and faintness travelled with him, buzzing lightly. He felt disembodied and mad as if he had become some sort of demon. ... Vague images of girls floated around him, battering him like malevolent butterflies."

-Iris Murdoch

--

In my mind's eye, I see the projections of e-news and private messages flicker backwards across my face. I know the visual effect to be stunning for an onlooker, and that's one of the reasons that I choose to leave the room unlit as I go through the evening's correspondence.

That the darkness hides the unmade bed behind me and the piles of haphazardly strewn clothing that I must eventually pick up is an unintentional bonus. I hate laundry.

It's often in these sorts of moments, when the weight of bureaucracy is threatening to crush me with its denials and red tape, that I'm most grateful for Childra's presence. I've found that it's impossible to tense a muscle without her fingers finding it at once and kneading it back into relaxed submission.

"Where did you learn to massage?" I ask her, and open the 'incoming' tray in the Exploratory History folder.

"The Mughal court," comes the answer from behind me.

"Nineteenth century?"

"Eighteenth." Oh, right. The pa-jaima affair. Leave it to Jansen to learn advanced physical techniques during a twenty-minute time trip, and still collect all of the required data.

I repress a shiver as two hands alight on me unexpectedly, one on the back of my neck, and the other at the top of my head. The first rubs my spine gently, exploring thoroughly the troughs between my vertebrae. The second? Well... Nothing beats a good hair ruffling. Childra's version makes me wish that all shampoos had fingernails.

Now, let's see what Gosunkugi wants today... Ah. I suppose that was to be expected, but still... I bite my lip.

"We're being blocked," I tell my loved one.

"Hrm?" From my spine and scalp, her hands wander to my shoulders, slipping underneath my blouse and treating my skin to a much-needed stretch. It feels heavenly.

"The exhibit - you know the one I mean, the one to commemorate the anniversary of the Global Saviour's death."

"I thought it was cancelled."

A pinch. Oooo... And here I thought I already knew where all of THOSE points were. I wonder if she learned THAT at the Mughal court, as well. I might have to send her back there.

"Not completely, but it might as well be. I've been working on it for months, and the KF is blocking me at the eleventh hour. From the top level, too." I point at the message's 'From' field, giving Childra a chance to read the address.

"The Chief Executor's office. I'm not surprised." Her voice is soft and low. But then, she always keeps her cool. Well, almost always. "The KF has quite a bit to hide, and they're downright paranoid when it comes to releasing information about dear old Tatewaki. Or don't you remember that incident a few decades ago, with professor... what WAS his name? At the university, in the history department."

I'd seen too many of my researchers lose their licenses for trying to find out more about that 2053 disappearance. It's best not to look to closely into one of the KF's 'tactical removals' if one values one's livelihood.

"I don't recall," I lie. I trust Childra with my life, but there's always the possibility of bugs. One can never be too careful when dealing with the less elegant moves of the Kunou Foundation.

Her hands leave my shoulders. Have I upset her? My tone WAS a bit strong, maybe even bitter, but - ah. I have to smile when I feel a finger brushing lightly against my wrist. She works her way up my arm and upper chest, and ends up tracing circles on my sternum. She's teasing me, making the orbits ever wider, wandering left, then right... I clap her hand firmly against my breast and keep on reading. She can feel my heartbeat, now. I'm sure it's faster than it should be.

My, oh my. Today just isn't my day; each message seems to bring worse news than the previous one.

"They're cancelling our public lectures." I scowl, then frown. "No. Wait. Just the Friday one. But they're still ignoring my requests for biographical data."

"You know," says Childra, sounding like a fox and prying my fingers off of hers, "there ARE other ways of getting that information."

I look back at her, and consider it for a moment. Her eyes are green for my sake, and they twinkle now, accenting the pale pink lips whose corners are turned upwards in an unmistakably mischievous grin. A lock of straw-blonde hair slips out of place and settles across the bridge of her nose, distracting me for a moment.

"No," I decide, having considered her offer. "It's too risky."

"Risky?"

"The KF is ignoring my requests out of self-preservation, not laziness. There's SOMETHING they're quite adamant in hiding, and I'm not curious enough to risk my life or that of one of my employees to find out what it is."

"Is that all I am? Your employee?" Fishing for compliments, is she? I pretend not to notice.

"While you're punched in, yes."

"It's not as if I haven't dealt with the KF on previous missions."

"It's been too quiet recently; you've gotten out of shape. I know for a fact," and here I jerk my thumb towards our double bed, "that you can't even make it through an hour of strenuous exercise without falling asleep."

"Is that so?"

"It IS s... s... No fair tickling!" She stops, and I'm able to compose myself. "You're my most trusted agent, but it's been a while since you've had a confidential assignment. You're getting rusty, and could be caught... UNAWARES!"

While she's still startled, I swivel through a half-circle on my chair, lunge towards her and press my hands against her shoulders. An elementary judo trip later, I have her pinned on the carpet. My knees are on either side of her waist, and I hold one of her hands in each of my own. I can't help but stare at her hair. Spread out on the floor that way, it almost looks like a halo. With a dark interior. Someone's been forgetting to dye their hair, I see. "Your roots are showing."

"So are your fangs," she counters. I grin, purposely exposing the overlarge canines I inherited from my grandfather.

"Don't worry," I purr in a voice a full octave below my regular speaking tone. "You won't have to see them for much longer."

We understand each other. Childra closes her eyes and parts her lips in preparation for the kiss to come. Vampire-like, I swoop down and-

The doorbell rings, of course.

Chi-chan's eyes open. Before I can complain, she's used me as a lever to propel herself back into a standing position.

"I'll get it," she says cheerfully, and leaves me to dust myself off and put the chair back into its full upright position. I wait, leaning with my back against the wall and hoping that it's only an insurance salesman.

"Oh, Kim! How... unexpected," comes my darling's voice from the entrance hall. Does the Thompson girl even KNOW about Childra and I? "Is Rat with you?"

I chuckle. I know for certain that my nephew doesn't even SUSPECT. He's called me his spinster aunt more than once. I kick a bra or two aside and walk to join my lover and offer our self-invited guest the comforts of our hospitality.

When I arrive, Childra and Thompson are talking - alone. Thankfully, Rat did not come with her. Though I make no secret of my partner, some explanations are awkward and best left to their proper time and place. I cock my head, trying to find an angle from which the scene makes sense. Jansen and the girl are speaking, but not to each other. The former is looking to Thompson's left, missing her head entirely, but that isn't any great loss, since the girl's face is turned far to the right. Though chatting away, she looks as confused as I feel.

I wave lazily, and yawn. She notices me. For a moment. Apparently, our carpet is more interesting than I am.

"Zannen, dear," says Childra without turning, "you haven't any trousers on."

Ah. That WOULD explain the blush. I shrug. My blouse is long enough to satisfy modesty's requirements, and we're all girls here. A few cushions are still on the ground from our tussle a few hours back. I bend down to pick them up.

"What brings you to our apartment?" I ask, while fluffing and arranging them on the sofa.

"Kim's here about a key to the Hibiki's. It seems your nephew lost his."

Oh, that's right. "You two were going on some sort of trip together, weren't you?" I think I remember a scavenger hunt being mentioned. "How'd it go? With Reiraku at the wheel, I'm surprised you made it back this early." They're only two days overdue - a new record.

Thompson tames her uneasiness with a grin, and answers. "The trip was driving him batty, so we came back early."

I nod while patting myself on the areas that might conceivably hide a pocket. "I don't have the key," I conclude. "Step into the bedroom with me, and I'll see if I can find it."

The girl glances nervously back at Childra, who's still staring at the door and grinning like a maniac.

"Don't worry about her; she gets like that sometimes." Far too often for my taste, actually, but she refuses to see anyone about it. Most people get rid of the imaginary friends of their childhood. Childra slaughtered hers, and now holds regular conversations with their 'ghosts'.

Thompson's upper teeth meet her lower lip. She's unsure of something, but I can't tell what. I begin to get the feeling that the trip didn't go as smoothly as she'd have me believe.

"Well?" I decide not to press the issue. If Reiraku's in trouble, I'll find out soon enough. She follows me. I must look like a mole as I dig through the piles of fabric on the bedroom floor. One of my first finds is the bottom half of the pin-stripe suit I wore to work, which I put on to avoid further offending our guest's sensibilities. Back to searching.

Notes, bills, change, a bottle of perfume I'd been looking for; whoops, THIS she didn't have to see... The girl turns red and looks down while I put the offending item into a drawer. She must have weak capillaries to blush so often. I finally find my suit jacket beneath the tangled mess of the comforter. The key is in the breast pocket, and I hand it to Thompson.

"Of course you'll be careful with it." She assures me that she will. "And DON'T let Rat get a hold of it - he'd just lose it, and I haven't another copy. You can slip it into my EH mailbox when you're done. It's right next to my office."

The girl mutters a rushed thanks and exits the room like a canary fleeing a gas-filled coal mine. Back in the parlour, Childra's bubbling with excitement and whispering rapidly to the door.

"The advances in home security during the last few years have been remarkable," I admit, "but I think you'll still find that a doorframe makes a dull partner in conversation. Or is it one of your 'ghosts'?" Jansen turns around. She's beaming. If her lips stretched any farther apart, her head would split in two.

"Ghosts?" asks Thompson. Before I can clarify, Childra excuses herself to me and the door.

"I... I have to go," she says, then rushes into the bedroom. The sound of cloth ruffling and small objects being tossed around is heard for a few moments, then she runs back in, holding an armful of clothing and accessories which she begins to put on. Jacket, bandolier and neckerchief all find their way onto her frame, and she hops around while putting on her short leather boots.

When she's done, she takes a quick look into the hall mirror, runs a hand through her hair and smooths her eyebrows with her fingers. That's when she spins around and grabs my head with both hands, reeling me in for a brief but impassioned closed-eyes kiss. I manage to keep my balance. By the time I clear my throat, she's already left. The door slams behind her.

"We... I should be leaving, too." About time the girl notices. A pity it's a bit too late. "I think the parking meter's about to expire." I dismiss her with a smile and a wave, and Thompson slinks out. For her, the door closes with a mere click.

--

"She saw you?" Kim struggled to keep herself from speeding. With all the feelings she had swirling within her, what she wanted most to do was slam down the hovercycle's accelerator pedal and shoot out of the city - but that would only bring her to the attention of the police, be it through a crash or otherwise.

"Yeah, she saw me. You saw us talkin', didn't you?" No matter how fast she went, Ranma's ghost form kept up and looked as if it were standing still. It was enough to make a speed freak go insane.

"Yes, but I couldn't hear her. What did she say?"

"She just asked me who I was, an' stuff-" "You TOLD her??"

"Why not?"

"Why not? Because now we'll have the C-Ko on our tail, that's why not!" "Hey! She said she wanted to be my friend!"

"Your FRIEND?"

"Yeah. Guess she thought I looked lonely."

"Deity... Why was she so happy?"

"Dunno. Maybe she liked my name. Look, why're you so concerned about it? So she can see me. Big deal. So can bat-boy, an' neither of them's wearin' a leotard."

"She's my next-door neighbour." Ranma blinked.

"... Are you two... well... you know..."

"NO!" Kim's face flushed red. "I didn't even know she was... I mean, she goes out with GUYS every other night, for crying out loud! At least, I thought she - whoops." She slammed the brakes on the hovercycle. "We're here."

Ranma whistled appreciatively, and with reason. The Hibiki mansion was of a size and elegance unheard of in crammed 1996 Tokyo.

"Big house," he concluded, as Kim unstrapped the pressure cooker from the 'cycle. "How come there's no guards?"

"In downtown Tokyo? You'd have to be..."

"...crazy to break the law. I know."

The key slipped easily into the front door, which opened automatically to let girl, ghost and pot into the mansion.

"See any rope?"

They'd gone through kitchens, game rooms, libraries, two or three bathrooms and wondered more than once how Rat ever found his own room in the place. After accidentally stumbling upon the master bedroom, servants' quarters and guest chambers, they were finally in Reiraku's room, which was surprisingly Spartan. It held only a bed, night-table, desk, chair, lamp, rug and closet. The walls were white-washed, the furniture of rough pine, and a window across from the desk clearly provided most of the light during the day.

"Whaddya need rope for?" Kim opened the pressure cooker and set the bat on the bed, patting it dry with a corner of the pillow.

"To tie him up." Ranma stared at her. "Later. Right now, we need to find him some clothes."

She rummaged through Reiraku's closet, pulling out several items, holding them up, shaking her head and putting them back. She managed to eventually piece together an acceptable outfit, and laid it out on the bed.

"Just a second," she told Ranma, and walked into the adjacent washroom. When she emerged a quarter of an hour later, she was holding a glass of water.

"You sure take your time. Didn't know how to turn a tap on, or somethin'?"

Kim turned her usual shade of red. "The LIVING have certain needs, you know, and we haven't had a pit stop since before we reached the city."

"Oh, yeah. Aheheheh."

Kim put her pinky finger in the water to make sure it wasn't uncomfortably hot. Once satisfied, she carefully dribbled it onto the belly of the bat, paying perhaps a little too much attention to the transformation from furry creature into well-built youth. Her contemplation was interrupted by a loud thump followed by rustling noises.

"What was that?"

"Dunno. Probably a cat fallin' out of a tree. Happens all the time."

Kim nodded, and started to dress the still-unconscious boy. Underwear, undershirt, socks, shirt and trousers were all put on with delicateness and care. Ranma looked away, but didn't make any inopportune remarks when she lifted Reiraku's legs to slide the boxers up to his waist, or grabbed his shoulders and pulled his chest upright to be able to put on his shirt. The finishing touch was a red bandanna. She arranged the boy's hair around it in a fetching manner then stood back, hands on hips, to admire her handiwork.

"There. Now..." Kim eyed the corner of the bed. She tried tugging a sheet from under Rat, found she couldn't fully remove it and instead took an armful of fresh bedding from the closet. She used the sheets to tie Rat's extremities to the bedposts and bind his waist to the mattress. The leaves in the tree just outside the window crackled madly.

Ranma shrugged. "Prolly a squirrel or a bird. Watcha tyin' him up for NOW? Aren't ya s'posed to do that BEFORE he gets his clothes back on?"

"NO!"

"You want I should leave for half an hour?"

"WHAT?! Look; we can't leave the key with him, and we can't have him getting lost until we know more about his curse. I'm making sure he stays put, just in case he wakes up before we get back. That's ALL."

"Touchy, aren't ya." The ghost looked at Reiraku's face. "Bat-boy's out cold. What did you say happened to him again?"

"The Amazon slugged him."

"Must've hit a pressure point."

Kim frowned briefly, then loosened one of the bonds around Reiraku's wrists enough for him to be able to scratch his nose, but not untie himself. "Stay here, will you?"

"Gotta go again?"

"Something like that."

"Girls have the weakest bladders..." She was faster, this time, and came back from her trip (she'd visited one of the kitchens) with a platter of cookies and a glass of milk. "Just in case," she explained, setting the food on the night-table where Rat could reach it. Kim set the thermostat to a reasonable temperature, then opened the window a crack.

"He'll need fresh air to recover."

"Sure you don't want to set the TV up an' program the VCR for him, while you're at it? Or fluff his pillow?"

Kim blinked. "VCR? And I already fluffed his pillow."

"Never mind."

"Let's head over to Kurenai Center for some dinner. I'm starving!"

As soon as the door closed behind them, a pair of pale, long-fingered hands opened the window to its full extent and let their proprietor into the room.

--

"Don't even try to joke with me, Childra. The Dead are beyond humour. Especially about... about this, and TONIGHT, of all nights!."

"LISTEN to me. In all our years of friendship, have I lied to you?"

"You told me Nutkin was harmless."

"Other than that."

"No. You haven't. But I'd KNOW if he were here. What do you think I've been doing with my time? With ALL my time? I see his face on half the boys in Tokyo; he looks at me from movie screens, and when I close my eyes, he's also there..."

"With his gray eyes, his smirk, and long-haired sideburns. His pigtail is segmented, his eyebrows are thin, and his hair tosses itself in front of him, but doesn't quite reach his eyes. I'll wager he was wearing a red silk shirt and black baggy trousers when he died."

"How-"

"He is HERE. In Tokyo. Now."

"I... I just can't believe... After all this..."

"There's nothing to BELIEVE! Go and see for yourself!"

"What if he's just some actor the C-Ko hired?"

"Then would I be able to see through him?"

"The Dead can change their appearance at will."

"You have to take that chance."

"Tell me where he is."

"You'll go to him?"

"Yes."

--

Kurenai Center turned out to be a multi-level mall with a reasonable (and more importantly, reasonably-priced) food court on its top floor. The location was fortunate, since the ground-floor lobby had been taken over by a loud C-Ko rally, complete with guest speakers and door prizes. Kim took the elevator up and passed by an okonomiyaki stand, a sushi bar, a tea lounge and a Chinese restaurant, stopping only at an American-style hamburger stall. She paid for her combination platter with a bill.

"Waitasec!" piped the ghost beside her. "What's that guy on the money?"

Kim sipped quietly at her drink. She found a table in an isolated corner and only spoke once she was comfortably seated.

"Ta-" A cheer from the ground floor interrupted her. "Tatewaki Kunou."

"WHAT? What's HE doin' on the money?"

Kim blinked. "Gee, I don't know. He's only the Global Saviour, and this is only his home country..."

"Global Saviour? You're kiddin'."

Kim shrugged. "I don't write history; I just try to pass the exams."

"What'd he do to be Global Thingamajiggy?"

"Became a monk and wrote some poetry. Look, I don't KNOW! I'm hungry, and I want to eat. If you're REALLY curious, I'm sure Childra will be more than happy to tell you about it once we get back. But first, I'm going-" More cheers. "I'm going to finish my dinner. Understand?"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever." Ranma left Kim to her food and leaned over a balcony, looking down at the rally in his honour. Thompson used the opportunity to take the C-Ko pamphlet she'd been given out of her jacket pocket, and begin to read it.

She sipped her drink, then frowned at something on the first page. The second page made her puree the French fry she was holding. The third turned her red as a beet, and after the fourth she had to take long gulps of the drink to cool down. And the fifth... Well, she really should have known better than to go on to the fifth page, given the heading listed on the table of contents, and the French and Danish illustration credits. The few words drifting up from the rally below didn't help, either. All she caught were 'bed', 'chain', 'whip' and 'Collective Bridegroom, Ranma Saotome'.

She spit out her drink and spilled the rest of it on her lap. In no time at all, it was Ranma's lap. She fared slightly better than the first time - her ghost form wasn't unconscious, but it seemed to be suffering from a really bad hangover. Ranma looked at Kim. She was bent over and clutching her head.

"You all right?"

"Get out of the body! NOW! Before... urk before the C-Kos see you!"

"But..."

"NOW! Unless you want to..." She couldn't finish the sentence. Thinking of what was described in the pamphlet only made her sick to her stomach.

"How?"

"Must I spell it out for you? Use the washroom!"

"Oh, yeah..."

Out of consideration for the body's future host, Ranma walked into the women's bathroom. He took a few seconds to admire himself in the mirror, and once satisfied that he was as handsome as on the day he died, he splashed himself with hot water from the sink. Soon, HE was the one clutching his head.

"Let's go back to res." Kim looked at him sharply. "There's something I need to ask you about."

Some minutes passed before one of the toilets flushed and a young woman in a green leotard stepped out of the corresponding stall. She ran all the way to the ground floor, cursing her bowels for not allowing her to get out earlier.

--

"Sisters... HE has returned."

"Can you be sure?"

"Sister Copernica can usually be trusted. And so can our KF security cam taps."

"And they show...?"

The relevant video was played. Those assembled hissed at the transformation.

"Ranma Satana..."

"Precisely. It is our duty to rescue our beloved from her clutches, is it not?" The question did not have to be asked.

"Where are they headed?"

"Our TRAFCON tap lists them en route to Kunou Hall."

"Send our university recruits after them."

"Will that be enough?"

"The Cecils are out." Nods of understanding all around. "We'll monitor the Harridan until we find a time when she is vulnerable, and then..."

"Then?"

"We extend to her all the benefits of our hospitality."

--

"So, what were you gonna ask me about?" Ranma looked around Kim's residence room while she took off and hung her jacket. It was small, but comfortable enough. Beds hadn't changed much in a hundred years, and neither had closets or desks. He thought he could recognise a computer and a sound system, but these WERE quite altered from the forms he knew.

"I don't want to talk about it right now."

"But YOU were the one who wanted to chat!" Kim closed her closet door and looked at him. She looked haggard.

"My jeans are soaked with cola, and thanks to you my panties are stretched and my bra's out of shape. Before I quiz you on the C-Ko's little bit of literature, I want to get very, very clean because I know I'll be feeling incredibly dirty afterwards."

"What?"

She opened the door and began to exit, then thought better of it and turned back to the ghost. "Just... before I go change. You didn't REALLY beat Hercules's 'hundred in a night' record, did you?"

"What are you TALKING about?!"

"I thought not. Wait for me here."

--

"Sisters, the Harridan is on her way to the third-floor showers. Prepare to intercept her."

"Understood."

--

"Kim! They're co-" Ranma froze in his tracks once he was fully through the wall. Kim stood in front of him, completely naked, dripping wet and glaring. "Ah... Aheheheh..."

The jets of water were just rinsing off the lather from her hair, which fell to the top of her breasts. The ghost's petrified gaze didn't stop there.

Instead of covering herself, Kim stood up straight and pressed a few buttons on a panel to her right, turning the water cold. Kim's ghost grimaced from the pain of transference, but had to laugh at the sight of a naked Ranma struggling with the unfamiliar controls.

"Take your time," she told him. "I'm enjoying this."

He pushed a button, and a mechanical hand attached to the shower nozzle took a few strands of his hair.

"Ow!"

There was some chirping, and then a generous dose of shampoo was sprayed onto his scalp. The next button caused the arm to scrape off a bit of his skin, then cover him with liquid soap. Neither of them was the hot water, and he was running out of time. Running and footsteps could be heard in the adjacent hall.

"I think that's the girls' track-and-field team coming in after their tournament. Maybe NOW you'll think twice about surprising a lady while she's bathing."

"Look, that ain't no track-and-field team; that's -" The shower sent a jet of warm water to rinse off the soap. Kim returned to the body just as a squad of young women in green leotards ran into the bathroom yelling unintelligible battle cries.

Before she could complain, they'd grabbed her and carried her off in her birthday suit, still covered in shampoo and shower gel.

"At least it's a warm night outside," mused Ranma. He didn't have to wait long before warping out.

--

At the Hibiki mansion, Kim's work was being undone. A young girl was busily pulling the clothes off of Reiraku, breathing raggedly and shuddering whenever her pale skin touched his. Her long hair flowed over his mouth, trying to block the words he was saying and muffle the name he was whispering. It wasn't hers. She knew that; she'd gotten used to it long ago, and she HAD tried to stay away... but lately Kim and he had been spending so much time together...

She'd worried. She had a right, didn't she? They were family. Cousins. Relatives were supposed to take care of each other. All she was after was his happiness. That her own stemmed from it was purely incidental.

The girl traced a line from Rat's now-bare sternum to his navel. Dare she go farther? Of course she did. She'd gotten it wrong, last time, stopping when she had... and now that Thompson had found some way to bewitch him and make her beloved change form, she'd best take advantage of his current state, before he turned into a bat again. Or worse.

She took her dagger from its holster at her side and slit through her cousin's boxers. Now all he wore was his bandanna. The girl giggled. He looked so cute...

She focused her lilac eyes on his sleeping face, memorizing every detail, then peeled off her bodysuit and lay herself upon him. She probed his mind. There was no rush. The dear boy was out like a light until daybreak, at least. An unintended gift from some other magician. Which reminded her...

She ran her tongue along his skin, trying to find the points she needed. Salty. He'd been sweating a lot. Had it been for fear, strain, or excitement? Odd. She thought she could taste an herb broth... No matter.

There, on his temple. She dug a nail in. On his chin. Another. She worked her way down, wriggling to accommodate her probe and enjoying the way his body automatically tensed under the pressure. Finally, all seven points were hit, and she muttered the words of the spell. A brief glow surrounded both of them, and it was done. Her wards were in place. Now Kim could do nothing to harm him without her knowledge.

But as for what SHE could do to him...

She smiled, and began to use her tongue again, this time focusing on things other than ki pathways. When that could no longer satisfy the need she felt, she allowed herself to send tendrils of her aura into his own and awaken the part of his mind that was least susceptible to dormancy - and the only one which she would need tonight. She laid her belly flush against his, spreading his feet out with her own then moving her legs back together. They were the same height.

Reiraku's body knew what to do. It began to move under her stimulation and partial control, and because it was linked to her soul-signature, her aura, it always found the perfect places, the perfect rhythm and timing... She supposed they were now... kissing cousins.

It was awful, a travesty, a perversion of the powers she'd been trained in by the Collective.

It was wonderful.

--

The ghost looked at the empty bathroom. Childra hadn't lied. He had been there. He'd been in sight, in reach, and then had disappeared. Too late by SECONDS only...

No matter where he was, she'd find him.

--

"I still believe

You will return

I know you will

My heart

Against all odds

Holds still"

-Richard Maltby, Jr. & Alan Boublil

--

**END WACKY HIJINX **


	29. Episode 3: Girl Trouble

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

PROLOGUE

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I really SHOULD kick myself, but I think I sprained my knee going up

that last set of stairs. Spending my evenings with Zannen is beginning to

cloud my mind. Kim goes off on a hovercycle tour alone with Rat, and of

COURSE they decide to come back early, and of COURSE she needs the key to

the mansion for a night when both of his parents will be away...

I didn't know Thompson had it in her. And to be honest, I'm jealous.

The bondage is as well set-up as any of my own, and with inferior

materials, at that. She even remembered to leave a little slack on one of

the wrists - has she done this before? The slit boxers are a bit much, but

considering the state of the sheets... If they weren't playing with

syrup, that's prodigious. I can see why Kim felt she had to rush back for

a shower.

Right. THAT'S what I'm here for. No more dilly-dallying. A pity -

the view's wonderful.

"Rat." Nothing. "RAT." Still asleep. I poke his chest. Again. And

again.

Is he... No. He's breathing, so that's all right. He always WAS a

deep sleeper.

Well, there's more than one way to wake a man.

Sure enough. Just a few seconds and his eyes are not only open,

but bulging out, and he's trying desperately to tell me that he's NOT

enjoying my attentions. And failing. True, my tongue is rather in the

way of his speaking, but the rest of his body would have given him away in

a telling fashion, anyway.

"I can explain! I... I... CHILDRA?!?!?"

Well, THAT was fun. Not quite moral, but fun.

"CHILDRA?!?!?"

"Rise and shine, lover-boy. Where's Ranma?"

"Did you just..."

"I had to get you up SOMEhow." And I DID get him up. "Where's-"

"You know about Ranma?!?!? How?"

"There. is. no. time." I poke his nose with my index finger, once for

each word. "The C-Ko's got your lover, which is bad enough, but if they

find Saotome..."

Strong emotions can make the Dead visible to the living, and surely

among that group of fanatics there's one who fits the requirements.

"What do you MEAN, my lover?!?" I smell the scent of scorched nylon.

"KIM, Reiraku."

"What on earth are you TALKING about?!? I don't HAVE a lover, I've

never had one, and if I did, it sure wouldn't be... be..."

I'm teasing him now, running my finger from just below his chin to far

below his waist. Blood trickles down his cheek, and he wipes it off with

his less-bound wrist.

My, but Kim's a wild one. Reiraku has more hickeys on him than a girl

caipira on the day after St. John's eve.

I tug fast and hard, pulling the sheet out from below Rat. He hisses.

I know it stings; I've had it done to me before. I take adjacent corners

of the bedsheet in my hands and hold it to the light where he can see it.

"No lover, you say?" Lots of 'aheheheh'ing. There's no denying THIS

evidence. "So," I set down the sheet and sit behind him, fingering his

bindings. "Where's Ranma?"

"Why do you want to know?"

Brilliant in med school, dumb as a brick in the real world.

"Weren't you LISTENING?!? Kim's been captured by C-Ko!"

"But I didn't sleep with her! I was unconscious!"

Wow. She really IS good.

"Right now, I don't care," I lie. I might actually have to ask her to

share a few things with me, once this is all over. "If the Church of

Kodachi finds out that Ranma is back..."

"Wait. You're not saying that Ranma is... THAT Ranma?!?"

"He is. And if they find him..." I let my sentence drop intentionally,

because nothing all that bad would happen to the Living. They want to

question Kim, and I can understand their eagerness, but they can't keep

her forever. What worries me is that the fact they've taken her means

they know about Ranma, which means that at least one of their members must

have ghost sight. If the C-Ko publicises Ranma's return - and they

will - Skeride will hear of it, and I can't allow her to hunt down THIS

spirit. I won't fail my friend twice.

"He was with Kim!"

I blink.

Oh my, oh my... And here I thought I KNEW my neighbour.

"You mean... he WATCHED?"

I think the thermostat's set a bit too high.

"No! He's with Kim. He has to be. Or at least, within a K of her."

I run through everything I've learned about ghosts, hauntings and

possessions. This doesn't fit.

"Tell me why," I demand.

And he does. The story he tells is hard to believe, but I have to.

It isn't unprecedented. After all, I was told about another girl and a

panda in similar circumstances, but those are things which I thought had

been left in the mythical past. I never expected to meet with them in

modern Tokyo.

A few minutes ago, I thought I was using scare tactics to hoodwink Rat

into helping me with a favour to a dear departed friend. But now? We'd

better hurry unless I want my number of dead acquaintances to increase.

"Get dressed." I pull my machete out of its hyperdimensional pocket

and slice through Rat's bindings with more than a smidgen of regret. I

feel like I'm shredding a painting - a naked boy bound properly to a

well-used bed can be a thing of beauty. "We're going to fetch Kim."

"Are you CRAZY?!?" He's rubbing his wrists, but hasn't covered himself

yet. Awfully nice of him.

I shake my head and pop my machete back out of sight and reality.

"Not yet," I answer. "But THEY are. Their devil equivalent is 'Ranma

Satana', a girl who once shared a body with Ranma proper. Get the

picture?"

"You think they'd..." That and more, dear. I nod. "Why don't we

just call the police?" He's moved to the closet and is pulling underwear

from one of the drawers. At least it's the tight kind.

"What would we tell them? They'd lock us up for mental insufficiency.

Look, Rat, I'm used to running solo rescue missions for EH, but for this

one I need YOUR help."

"Why?" He has a shirt on now, and is finishing the buttoning of his

trousers.

Truth be known, I need him for cannon fodder and to use as a

distraction while I try to find Ranma and free Kim. Of course, I can't

tell him that.

"What? You think I can face hundreds of those girls ALONE?"

"Ah." He nods an understanding and puts on his socks and shoes.

Never underestimate the male ego. When I suggested that his joining

the party would make the fight even, he swallowed it hook, line and

sinker.

"Besides," I add just in case he isn't fully convinced, "she's YOUR

lover. Aren't you willing to play the Knight in Shining Armour and help a

maiden-" well, certainly not any MORE, "I mean, a LADY in distress?"

"I did NOT-" I make a meaningful visual survey of the battle-scarred

bedroom. "Well... aheheheh..." He cups a hand around the back of his

head. "Maybe I did, at that..." Is that a sigh? "But anyway," he says,

clearing his throat, "how'll we get to her?"

"We'll go to C-Ko HQ by hovercycle."

"And then?"

"Leave that to me."

"Oh, so you just HAPPEN to know how to break into their complex?"

"I do."

"And you found this out... how?"

"I've been around. Let's stop wasting time, shall we? Here's the key

to the 'cycle. I found it in Kim's jacket, just after her abduction."

"You're letting me drive?"

"I lost my license, and we can't risk getting stopped by the police.

There's Cecils about. Just try not to get lost."

"I'll do my best."

That's what worries me.

"One more thing."

"Yes?" He stops midway through putting on his jacket.

"Do you know the way to the prefectoral graveyard?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

EPISODE 3: GIRL TROUBLE

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For Vilja, Cassandra, and the Witches' Coven

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The love that follows us sometimes is our trouble"

-William Shakespeare

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

I flutter from grave to grave asking my question, but my fellow

departed give me as much of an answer as the wind which I've been

questioning for years. When I say the name, they turn away as if from one

insane, but I know they understand. How can they not? We know each

other's histories here, down to the smallest detail. Our days we spend

in common lament and our nights in recollection of that which will never

be again; how can they not know who I've grieved for, who I died for and

who it is I must now find?

"Where's Ranma?" I ask.

"Who?" counters an owl.

Smart-aleck. If I were alive, I'd use its feathers for pillow

stuffing.

But I'm not.

I recognise a shade, not far off. It's old Hiro, who spends his time

at the lake watching young lovers.

"Have you seen Ranma?" I ask, dashing up to him. He looks at me for a

moment. His eyes are searching for... what? knowledge? an expected

feeling? Whatever it is, they don't find it, and he moves on.

"Why won't anyone answer me?" I ask him. "What's going on?"

Through waves of silent ghosts and markers I trail him. It's quiet;

even the usually omnipresent sound of supernatural whining is absent

tonight.

"Why won't anyone tell me about Ranma? Is there a problem? Is he...

he..."

I can't say it. He says it for me.

"We face a problem greater than any of our individual misfortunes."

Hiro stops and points at a crypt's half-open door. "Look."

I'm not sure what I'm supposed to see, but I phase past the door and

into the burial chamber. Everything seems in place. Urn. Inscription.

"Th... the Wanderer... shy gypsy, SAVE US! slyly, spryly, tryst... HA!

HA! tryst and twine until she... he... Dai. DAI. DIIIIEEEEEHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Babbling phantom in convulsions.

I know her, and that only makes it worse. It's Minnako. She isn't

looking well. Her eyes are enlarged to twice human size, her jaw moves up

and down even when she doesn't speak and her body not so much shakes as

pulses with a stuttered rhythm.

"He will come... but too LATE! too LATE to my crypt, now mine not his

he's not hereanymoreishenot ANYWHERE goooooooooooone... Baibaibaibai HA!

HA! WAAAAAAAAAAANDEEEEEEEEREEEEEEEEEER!"

Hiro melts through the wall and joins me.

"What happened?" I ask.

"The Assassin happened," he answers.

"Skeride? When?!?"

"Tonight. Not long ago." Both of us keep our eyes on the spectral

girl as she continues her mutterings.

"Who... who was it?" I have a fairly good idea, but I don't want to

know. Not for sure. The Death that Nutkin brings is final. There are no

ghosts of ghosts.

"Kimeko and Daisuke." As I feared. That pair had been in love, and

Minnako here was well-known as Dai's rejected suitor. "The two had

finally decided to try... well..." His pink glow and cough say enough. A

crypt was an obvious choice for that, since it guaranteed privacy - the

wards embedded in its walls make exit from one difficult, and entry less

appealing.

"Mi'ko'd heard of the tryst, and was planning on walking in on

them." Hiro closed his eyes. "Skeride walked in on them first. Caught

them with their pants down."

"She... she did it in the MIDDLE of..." Hiro nodded. This was bad.

However vicious she may be, until now the Assassin always respected the

sanctity of those at prayer and the privacy of couples seeking intimate

solace. This lowering of her respect for us considerably increased our

danger.

"Minnako saw it all."

"Deity..." Her cries and shouts were now impossible to understand.

"It's worse for her, you know. The Wanderer's rescued her twice, and

she expects him to do the same for everyone. For the rest of us, he's

hope. For her, he's... he WAS a certainty."

"He's only ONE spirit!"

"But he's all we have."

"There are HUNDREDS of us. Why can't WE do something about Nutk...

about the Assassin?"

"Because she has weapons we cannot fight. A touch of her blade, or

one of her bubbles, and we're gone. And what can we attack her with? We

could try scaring her to death, I suppose..." Minnako's been reduced to

sobbing now. I try not to imagine what's going through her mind. I don't

know what I'd do in her place; unable to help while the one you loved

was...

"RANMA!" The Heavens forgive me for forgetting about him these few

minutes. If anything were to happen to him NOW... The double death fills

me with guilty reassurance - Skeride strikes only once a night.

"Ranma's in trouble!" The crypt door slams fully open. "Hi, Hiroshi!"

Childra waves at him while running in. She glances down. "What's wrong

with Minnako?" I start to explain, but she silences me. "No time for

that. The C-Ko has Ranma."

"Is he..."

"Yes, he's alive."

"WHAT?!?!?"

"And dead. Dead and alive. He's as lively as a stiff can be, but

we'd better get to him soon. If we don't, the Church will make his

presence public, and that'll attract-" Minnako looks up from her crying

and looks Jansen directly in the face. "Oh, no. She didn't..."

"Skeride," I mutter to myself. Why can't she stick to her books and

her passions, and let us BE?

"I'm so sorry..." Childra wrings her hands.

"You don't have to apologise for your friend." Hiroshi. "We know her

actions are not yours. You are a comfort and companion to the Dead, while

she's the self-appointed scourge of the Heavens."

"She's not always like this..."

"Only the living can afford to see her as anything but the Assassin."

A weak smile from Childra, and then the verbal steamroller is back.

"Rat's out front; he's waiting for us." Hiro raises an eyebrow.

Jansen ignores his silent question.

"What does HE have to do with anything?" I ask.

"I'll explain on the way. Do you know your way around the C-Ko

complex?"

"I think so..."

"Good enough."

And then we run, leaving Hiroshi behind to deal with Minnako's

shattered soul. At times, we all must be a little selfish.

Ranma examined the mural in front of him. He had to admit that it was

quite a good likeness, though the situation was a bit far-fetched.

The room he'd warped into was in was dimly-lit, simple and harrowing.

The sole item of furniture was a chair in the middle of the room, the only

light came from a glowing disc at each corner, and every available inch of

space was painted.

Three of the walls had pictures of Ranma's ex-fiances on them. One

showed a giant Ukyou, dressed in black, demolishing a town with her

spatula while green flames rose up around her. The next depicted Shampoo

as an enchantress, calling down lighting from the dark clouds above her.

The one Ranma was currently admiring had Akane rushing towards the viewer

from the centre of a whirlpool, wooden mallet in mid-swing.

And the others... well... he didn't want to think about them. The

nicest of the three had an army of those 'Kodachettes' on it, all dressed

in their green leotards and wearing identical ticked-off expressions.

Looked like they were protecting some sort of building. As for the floor

and ceiling... the kindest thing he could say was that at least now he

knew where the picture on the side of that skyscraper'd come from. Above

him was the same pastel-shaded painting of Kodachi hugging an

ultra-bishounen version of himself. The extra clouds and cherubim made it

clear it was meant to be a rendition of Heaven. Below wasn't much better.

Amidst flames and dancing devils was an underendowed demonic version of

his female half in a pink leotard, complete with horns and a barbed tail.

At least Kim's unconscious body covered the worst of it.

Eventually, the girl opened her eyes.

"Ungh..." she groaned, then shook her head and sat up. "Where..." She

noticed Ranma. "Ranma, where ARE we?"

"Dunno. Some girls took you from the shower, and I kinda just warped

here."

Kim squinted as her eyes adjusted to the half-light.

"I don't feel so good," she moaned.

"I think they drugged ya. You've been out a while."

"I'm feeling chills."

"Then you might wanna get some clothes on."

"CLOTHES?!?"

Ranma's sudden embarrassed glow added considerably to the light in the

room, and Thompson was able to find and grab a leotard that had been left

for her.

It was pink.

"I've seen the ceiling before," she commented while putting it on.

Ranma nodded, his back to her. "C-Ko has us."

"'Fraid so."

"I KNEW that switch at the restaurant was going to cost us." She

sighed. "Well, so much for my mid-terms... Say, isn't that Shampoo?"

"Yes," Ranma said softly.

"How'd they know about her?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Suit yourself. Any ideas on how we're going to escape?"

Part of the army of Kodachettes slid open, and three women stepped

through the open door.

"You won't," said their leader.

"Big wall," says Rat.

He's right. The C-Ko spared no expense in making their compound look

the part of an impregnable fortress. Much like the ladies themselves.

But there's an easy way to get both of them to open. You just have to

know what to slip into the slit, and which buttons to press...

Green light and a beep. They either haven't bothered to erase

Isabella's code, or they never realised I stole her card.

The expression on Rat's face as the front door swings open is

precious, and the ghost's isn't far behind.

"What was that?" asks Reiraku.

"Membership card."

"You... you were in... you were... wha..."

I shrug and step inside.

"I was young. Coming?"

"Not so much, Cassandra! Alana, be careful with that knot! Remember

who she... There it is. Her eyes are glossing over. Good."

The drug was quick-acting. In a few seconds Kim ceased to be bothered

by the ribbons with which they'd strapped her to the chair; the women in

front of her looked as insubstantial as Ranma, and all around them the

paintings were laughing.

"What is your name?" The one who asked the question wore a black rose in her hair.

"Kimberley Anne Thompson," she answered. Funny. She'd never told

anyone her middle name before. The birds were lovely, but they really

shouldn't pick on the poor weasels so.

"Your TRUE name."

"I... aheheh I told you! BWAHAHA! Kim. Thomp. Son. WHEE!"

"Why have you returned?"

Seagulls under rocks.

"Well, we couldn't stay in China FOREVER... It's so nasty there, with

bats, and rats and shampooooooooOOOOOOOoooooooooOOOOOOOooooooo..."

How silly those girls looked with alligators on their tummies. Was

that a blimp? No. It was a hat. A derby hat. Ah, well.

"China? What does the return of Ranma-sama have to do with China?"

"That's where he comes from. Yup! Yup! Yup! Wheeeeeee!" And speaking

of Ranma, there he was! Was he playing hide-and-seek? Maybe he was 'It',

and that's why he had his hand over his face like that...

Thompson tried to pop one of the golden bubbles, but the ribbon around

her wrist stopped her. She struggled a bit.

Hey.

That actually felt... good.

Kim wriggled in her bonds, trying to set up as much friction as she

could. The leader covered her face with her hand, just like Ranma.

Maybe SHE was 'It', now! That's odd. No one seemed to have tagged her.

"What is the nature of your relationship with Ranma Saotome?"

"None! I'm single!" She grinned. "For now, anyway."

Ooooooo... Aaaaaaaa...

Giggle.

"Stop playing games. In what way are you and Ranma linked?"

"Linked? Why didn't you say so before, dum-dum? We share my body!"

"What?"

"In and out, in and..."

"Enough! This is going nowhere. Alana! Cassandra! I'll take my

chances, but we might need your strength if this is only a demonic

duplicate. Genevieve!"

Another girl must have come in with water, because Kim soon found

herself splashed, out of the body and coherent. Now Ranma was in the pink

leotard, strapped to the chair with large quantities of red ribbon and

giggling madly.

The switch sent three of the girls to their knees. Only the beflowered

one managed to keep her composure, and poked Ranma twice with a white

instrument. The boy's laughter died down and a green light flashed at

the top of the machine.

"The genetics match," whispered the leader. "Genevieve!

Cassandra! Release the saviour!"

While they did, with trembling hands, the leader knelt before him and bowed..

"Our apologies for doubting you, my liege, but this being the

century-day of your Ascension and having been warned of Satana's wiles,

we thought it prudent to wait for a genetic test before acknowledging

you."

"S'okay," said a drowsy Ranma.

"Genevieve! Cassandra! Alana! Ready the Sanctum!"

Three nods, then the pitter-patter of slippered feet exiting a

smooth-floored room.

All the ribbons were off now. The leader took Ranma's hand in her own

and helped him up, offering herself more as a full-body frontal splint

than a crutch. The Collective Bridegroom was too sleepy to care, and Kim

too disgusted to watch.

"It will be a few minutes until the sedation wears off."

"Wrrhrumptuf..."

"I am Lepi, first-ranked of your brides. Allow me to be the first

to... to..."

Further words would have been wasted on one too drugged to understand.

Lepi's kiss drove the clouds from Ranma's mind. She broke it off

only when both of them were short on air and she could no longer keep him

pressed against her.

Ranma backed against the muraled walls as if trying to melt through

them. His eyes were wide, his Adam's apple was moving up and down and

sweat trickled along the side of his face.

The head of C-Ko smiled.

"I am afraid there is but one way out, our love, but I guarantee that

you won't find it unpleasant. If you will follow me?"

Everything's exactly as I remember it inside the complex.

Well, no, not really. Everything I remember is exactly as it was, but

they've added a few wings and remodeled half the rooms. The security

detail's also missing. That must mean...

"Childra?" asks the spirit hovering beside me.

"Hrm?"

"Where's Ranma?"

"They'll have taken him to the main auditorium."

"Huh?" I've confused Rat with my conversation. I'm not about to give

him a Parapsych 101 cram session, so I pretend that I was talking to him.

"I was saying that they'll have taken Ranma - and Kim - to the main

auditorium."

"Do you know where it is?"

"If memory serves..."

We walk down two halls and come to an elaborately carved door.

"Um... Childra?" asks Reiraku.

"Yes?"

"Why does the main auditorium look like a dungeon?"

Shampoo listened, to make sure everyone else had gone to sleep, then

locked the door to her new room and tossed herself onto the bed. It was a

spring bed, rather than a mat. That was one of the few changes that had

been made.

The Nekohanten was almost as she remembered it, physically. The menu

had changed, there'd been a new paint job, but that... that was all.

Still, it didn't FEEL as it once had, and the spiritual connection she'd

had with Mousse's sons was gone.

They spoke, and she heard nothing. They moved, they smiled, they

tried to console her and all she saw were faceless ghosts wandering halls

haunted by quenched possibilities.

She had nothing, now.

For a century she'd lived towards a goal. She'd reached it, and was

unfulfilled. Ranma didn't love her. Ranma didn't know her. She'd seen

that the instant he'd woken - his face was trying to hide what his eyes

could not, that he felt himself in the presence of a stranger. Had she

changed all that much? The restaurant was ageless, but with a mutable

soul. She was its inverse, or so she felt; an unchanging spirit confined

within a restless frame.

Nimbly, she slipped out of her nightgown, draping it carefully over a

chair, and stood in front of the full-length mirror.

She had aged in a hundred years; that was certain. Her skin had gone

from creamy white to a dull half-gray, and though she wouldn't admit it in

public, smoothness had given way to wrinkles, and here and there a few

white strands clashed with her otherwise sky-blue hair.

It wasn't fair! She'd done all she should... Long ago she'd promised

to herself (and to Cologne!) that she'd have no airen but Ranma. She had

kept that oath, defeating all challengers and devoting her entire life to

bringing his spirit back from that half- death in the Jusenkyo pool... And

now...

She started to cry. It just wasn't right. It wasn't! Her heart

hadn't changed, or her soul, and she still was athletic and trim... But it

wasn't enough. Ranma's heart, soul and build were equally inviolate, but

he had the advantage of his teenaged body, and she the burden of a hundred

years of age and memory.

Surely, her beloved would be snagged by some pubescent girl with a

firmer chest, or a solid voice in place of her own tremulous

vocalisations... All her work, her dedication, and her waiting... All for

WHAT?

Shampoo laughed. She laughed at herself, at the world, at having

thought that he'd stay with her just because she'd raised him from the

dead... At best, he'd think of her as a grandmother. A GRANDMOTHER!

Tears streamed down the Amazon's cheeks.

It would be easier to bear if he now hated her. At least, she would

then think that he disliked her for herself, that there would never have

been any chance of their being together. Instead, he found he LIKED her,

as a friend - maybe even more... It was only physical considerations that

prevented them from...

Time's arrow had struck her in the heart.

Shampoo shook her head. She shouldn't think of things she could not

change. Wasn't that what she'd told Ranma? It was best to make the most

of what she could, and not regret the lack of that which lay beyond her

grasp.

She walked over to the telephone. Thank goodness Blow Dryer had shown

her how to use the thing earlier that day... She'd never have been able to

figure it out on her own. Not a single button or dial was to be seen on

the device.

She picked up the 'set, and spoke the number which she'd memorized. A

short pause, then a beep.

'Welcome to Tokyo Telecomm's automated answering service. The persons

you have called: "Kim Thompson and Childra Jansen" Are not available.

Please leave your name and number, along with a brief message, after the

tone. Thank-you for using Tokyo Telecomm." beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

Shampoo smashed the 'set against the ground, and collapsed sobbing

onto the floor.

Ranma was wary of following the overpassionate leader, but was left

with little choice, given the number of exits. The room they went into

was as brightly lit as the first one was dim, and he was blinded for a

moment as he walked into the bright light.

"Darkness is a requisite for the preservation of the paintings,"

explained Lepi. "Your images are very dear to us, and those are among

the most faithful. They were made soon after your d... they were made a

long time ago, and so need special care. Our apologies for the discomfort

which the change in light has caused you."

"'S'okay..." Ranma squinted a few times, then regained his vision.

The chamber he'd been led into looked like either a space station's

control center or a very advanced medical lab, with large computer

screens, keyboards and some devices he couldn't recognise lining the

walls. A few institutional-looking chairs and a desk were the only

furniture, and they, like everything else, were cast in a clean, glowing

white. He could see everyone's reflections perfectly on the floor tiles -

except for Kim's, of course. "What're they doing?" He jerked a thumb at

two of the acolytes who'd sat down at the terminals and were typing away

furiously.

"They're preparing your rebirthday present."

"Oh, yeah? What is it?"

"Something the Foundress very much wanted you to see."

More typing. Kim put her invisibility to use and watched over the

Kodachettes' shoulders.

Nothing seemed to be happening.

"Why's it takin' so long?" Ranma was getting edgy, and he didn't like

the way Lepi kept staring at his hips.

"There are certain things which we value more than even those

paintings, and over-riding the safeguards we've built over decades of

storage takes some time."

"What is it?"

"You won't have too much longer a wait."

He sure hoped not, since he REALLY didn't like the way she was using

her index finger to twist his hair into a curl. He glanced at Kim. She

was a pale shade of green, and her eyes were wider than a human's could

ever be, making her look like a character out of some anime show.

"All we need now is your access code, Mistress Lepi."

"Gosunkugi Bar-Ranma-Alpha-Lepi-Tiptoe-Ranma-Alpha-Pot."

After a final bout of keyboard clicking the far wall slid open and a

carpet of cold air unfolded to welcome Ranma to Kodachi's final gift.

"She waits," said Lepi.

The acolytes were now standing at attention, as if expecting something

official to happen. Ranma didn't know what. All he saw was another dark

room, and a few speckles of light bouncing off something within it.

He looked for Kim. Her ghost sight should allow her to see things

pretty clearly.

Ah. Okay. Not when she was looking away.

"Er... Ah..."

Lepi bowed slightly and gestured with her hand in the direction of

the dimly-lit chamber.

Ranma stepped into the room, the lights switching on before he had a

chance to reconsider his entrance. This chamber too was white, and

dominated by a tall glass cylinder filled with a translucent yellow goo

and capped by a panelled metal base and top.

There seemed to be something moving in the middle of it. He pressed

his nose and palms to the edge of the container and peeked in. Something

dimly peeked back at him through the murk - or would have, were it living.

"AAAAARGH!" Ranma tripped on his own foot while jumping back and

sprawled onto the floor.

It couldn't be. Noway. Nohow. Nuh-uh.

He looked again. Innocent enough. It'd just been a trick of the light.

It was only a lava lamp, see? Just a few bubbles going up, some nice

blinking lights, a click or two, and some old dead bag grabbing. his.

grinning. corpse.

"AAAAARGH!" Now he looked like a poster-boy for Twister.

"Mistress Kodachi wanted you to know that even in Death, she

would be faithful to you," said Lepi.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," mumbled Ranma. "Tell me that's not

what I think it is..."

"I've already been sick," said Kim. She was somewhere behind him.

"The janitorial squad for this place is bloody lucky that ghosts can't

puke. The passwords ALONE were enough to turn my stomach. Hope you're

into ribbons and handcuffs, o 'Collective Bridegroom'..."

"She has never left you," continued Lepi. "In fact..." She pressed

a button on a nearby wall. A spotlight came to life behind the tank, its

limelight cutting through the murk and making the contents of the vessel

clearly visible.

There was no denying it now. Floating within the glass cylinder,

the naked, grinning corpse of an elderly black-haired woman tightly hugged

Ranma's own cadaver.

"In fact..." concluded Lepi, "YOU have never left HER." She smiled.

"You STOLE my corpse?!?" asked Ranma, shocked. He couldn't take his

eyes off of the body hovering in the straw-coloured glop, nor rid himself

of the impression that he was looking into a very badly-manufactured

mirror.

"Not I, no..." answered Lepi. "It was Mistress Kunou. We couldn't

leave it to decompose, after all, now, could we? That would be an outrage

against yourself. Be assured; it has been carefully preserved and revered

all these years..."

"But... That other body... Is that? Is it?"

"That is Kodachi Kunou. When she died, she asked her body be placed

in the preservation tank along with yours, that you could see her

faithfulness proved upon your return."

"I... I see..." he gulped. "Well, now that I have seen how she is...

er... faithful... Could you please... Close it up again?"

Lepi smiled.

"Certainly! I can see how it might be a little - disconcerting, shall

we say? - to see your own corpse. Will you step out of the chamber,

please?" Ranma did so. Lepi waited for the lights to go off, then

snapped her fingers. "Alana! Cassandra! The doors!" The pair nodded and

set back to work at the consoles. In a short while, the panels closed

together with a thud. Ranma relaxed visibly.

"Is there anything else that I have to do, or will you let me go?"

"Obviously, I cannot hold you here against your will, any more than a

Tibetan monk could retain the Dalai Lama. You are free to go. However, I

must say that our acolytes will be sorely disappointed when I tell them

you declined to meet them..."

"Acolytes?"

"Ranma! Let's get OUT OF HERE!" Kim was tapping her foot with enough

force to send it through the floor.

"Our headquarters house about seven hundred Acolytes of Kodachi...

The press has taken to calling them 'Kodachettes'... They are all in

between the ages of sixteen and twenty-five, except for the senior

priestesses, like myself." She smiled. "Who are considerably more mature

and..." A grin. "...experienced..." Ranma gulped. "They train in martial

gymnastics and other athletics for several hours a day, and are quite

physically fit... And, of course, all of us worship you... You're SURE

you want to leave NOW?" She put on her best puppy-dog eyes.

"What happens if I say yes?"

Lepi snapped her fingers and half a dozen ladies whose tight black

leotards showed more muscles than should be tastefully seen on any woman

entered the room. They were holding small silver devices in their hands.

"If that were the case, we should have to have you anointed by the

Holy Loving Taser Troupe before your departure. Through the auditorium."

"Oh." Ranma paused to think. That took a while. Eventually, his

brain settled on what promised to be the least painful option. "Well,

um... I suppose I could stay for a LITTLE... Just to MEET them..."

Lepi smiled, dismissing the Holy Loving Taser Troupe with a second

snap of her fingers.

"I shall assemble the acolytes. Genevieve, give the signal!"

A few keystrokes from the Kodachette filled the room with the sound of

the 'Wedding Chorus' from 'Lohengrin'.

"They will gather in the meeting hall shortly. Come with me." Lepi

offered her arm, and Ranma took it in his.

"Seven hundred of them, you say? Ages sixteen to twenty-five?"

Lepi nodded, and winked.

"Right this way, Ranma-sama..."

"..." Kim followed.

All right, so maybe my memory WAS a bit rusty, but it'd been years

since I'd last roamed these halls, and the auditorium hadn't been in

much use, in those days. Now, if we had to find Isabella's room, I

could do that in my sleep. I often had, in fact, and morning would

surprise me with the knowledge that there are far higher degrees of

sleepwalking than is generally believed.

"You're walking too slowly and we don't have time," the ghost reminds

me.

"Give me a minute. This looks familiar. That's the kitchen, there's

the exercise room, and THAT," I turn towards Rat with a deliberately

theatrical expression, "is the-"

Shocking Rat is not as easy when the boy is nowhere to be seen.

I open my mouth to comment on the situation, but am stopped by the

sound of stampeding women. Zannen's nephew will have to wait.

By the end of the twentieth century, a millennium of Chinese

male-preferential breeding had led to a matrimonial crisis: the nation's

surplus males exceeded the total female population of Taiwan, and dowries

for Asian women skyrocketed. With hundreds of thousands of Chinese men

facing the prospect of a lonely future and no succession, the marriage of

an attractive or talented daughter became a transaction that would often

leave her parents independently wealthy.

Enterprising, genetics-savvy 21st century Japan was quick to take

advantage of this: families soon found that a little zygote-tweaking for

two X-chromosomes and beauty would more than pay for its cost,

child-maintenance included, once the foetus reached nubility. The Global

Saviour's 'Empire of Light' drew a noticeable percentage of its financial

strength from the export of brides to China, through both taxes on the

obscenely large wedding payments and fees paid by the parents to the

notoriously government-linked Onocorp genetics company. Indeed, the Kunou

Foundation publicly endorsed the practice, subsidising the marketing

(by Kurenai Industries' advertising branch) of Onocorp's 'mail-order

daughter' scheme as a public education measure.

Old habits die hard. Though the Chinese population imbalance had been

eliminated by the 2060s, genetic selection and enhancement of children

remained a necessary status symbol for social climbers well into the

2080s, and a beautiful daughter was held to be more prestigious than a

son. The damage had been done by the time the suppliers came to terms the

decrease in demand; a whole generation of factory-guaranteed knockouts

found themselves facing spinsterhood or marriage far outside their age

group. Some were able to come to terms with the situation, either by

finding companionship in other women or adjusting to relationships with

babes and the elderly. The media reflected this, changing the mainstream

male model from the dashing twenty-five year-old to the distinguished

forty-year-old and innocent sixteen-year-old.

Of course, there were those for whom either of these choices was

unsatisfactory, or who couldn't find a partner no matter how hard they

tried: there simply weren't enough men.

It was to these that the Church of Kodachi appealed, with its promise

of a mythical 'Collective Bridegroom' that would return from the Heavens

to satisfy all their needs. It wasn't, at first sight, a very impressive

solution: their deliverer was biologically underage, and they'd have to

share... but what they WOULD share, if the Church propaganda was to be

believed, would be mythical: specially-commissioned lurid illustrations

beckoned with their captions: 'A hundred men in one!' 'Virility

unbounded!'.

It wasn't everyone's piece of cake, but 'C-Ko', to use the

common Reuters abbreviation, managed to gain the loyalties of seven

hundred stunning, sexually frustrated females. These were the proud, the

few, the severely repressed - and so when they heard the strains of

Wagner's Wedding Chorale letting them know their Saviour had arrived,

they didn't just run - they swarmed.

Bombs, bouquets and things that were both were dropped and allowed to

explode. Ribbons and handcuffs disappeared from lockers in a flurry of

maniacal wrist-tossing, and the Kodachettes kept tabs on each other to

ensure that no single one of them would use the advantage that nudity

would confer.

They flowed into the main auditorium like maggots into a

newly-presented carcass, writhing under, through and over each other until

one green quasi-worm was scarcely distinguishable from the other.

Once the inflow had settled into a small-scale harmonic undulation

about centre stage, Lepi stepped onto the main platform.

"Girls!" said the High Priestess into a microphone, "The day

we have long waited for has arrived at last! May I present... RANMA

SAOTOME!"

Their Deliverer stepped onstage.

"Hi," he said, and waved to the crowd.

A quarter of those present fainted.

Lust delayed becomes a tangible force; a stale-smelling sticky fog

that surrounds its source and reminds the passer-by of laundry to be done,

and unswept floors. The assembled Kodachettes fairly reeked of the

miasma; their eyes were focused on their leotarded Saviour, and their

hands and unmentionables kept back only by the steel-stiff spiritual

shield of Lepi.

She was speaking - her sermon was indeed the excuse for

the delay in Ranma's release - but her followers, for once, did not

listen. Neither did they notice that the Bridegroom seemed to be talking

with someone backstage; it was enough that his lips moved, and that their

imaginations could place those strips of flesh upon their own. A few of

those present developed a jock itch, and the rest spoiled their makeup

with drool streaks. All were clenching and unclenching their fists to

work off the less intimate part of the accumulating tension.

"Even NOW, in our moment of triumph over the unbelievers, we are not

free of the evil Ranma Satana. She has found an avatar, and has caused

our beloved to believe that he must FLEE our presence, rather than embrace

it. We must..." Lepi's voice trialed off and a slightly annoyed expression appeared on her face.

"You aren't hearing a single word I'm saying are you?" she asked the gathered throng of sexually repressed femininity. The only response was more wide eyed adulation of Ranma's form behind her. Lepi let out a sigh.

"Oh, all right. Ladies..."

There was a collective inhalation of breath from the Kodachiettes. One or two began crouching down in preparation to leap.

"Wait for it..."

"Oh, crap." Kim muttered from behind Ranma.

"HAVE AT HIM!"

Ranma had an eighth of a moment's warning while the acolytes flashed

the rules of the upcoming game to each other with their eyes.

Then the mountain of flesh sealed itself over him. He was calamine

for their full-body seven-year itch, and the hundreds of girls and ladies

present thought nothing of tunneling through piles of fellow worshippers

to rub as much of his demidivinity against themselves as possible. Any

escape attempt was futile. The instant Ranma raised a portion of himself

above the surface of the sea of green, some bag of unused oestrogen would

spot it, squeal, and toss herself upon his newly-exposed gift of arm, leg,

chest or rear. It took him minutes to learn to do the sensible thing and

enjoy the rides while ignoring the bruises.

Then again, his stoic

acceptance of the situation might also have been shock, a theory lent

credence to by his cold-sweat-bathed expressionless face and splayed

fingers. Whatever the reason, his obeisance paid off; he was allowed to

keep his head above flesh level and have it kissed by only one girl at a

time: a round-robin had been informally established for fairer

distribution of his limited lip-space.

It was all working quite nicely, with no party receiving either too

much pleasure or too much pain, until the main doors swung open.

"What are you doing with Kim's body?!?!?"

The chamber was already suffused with a quasitropical steam from the

acolytes' rubbing and writhing. Fueled by righteous indignation, Rat's

anger-based hyperfever raised the ambient temperature to a few degrees

above the comfort level. The Kodachettes paused their wriggling for a

moment, decided they were more interested in reaching for Ranma than

puzzling out the intruder, and returned to the business they'd been

trained for.

"I said, WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH KIM'S BODY?!?!?"

If Reiraku expected a reply, the ensuing noises were rather

disappointing. Alana gasped. Cassandra moaned. Lepi cackled, and

Ranma was reduced to nervous grunting.

Off in the spirit plane, invisible to the Kodachettes' eyes, Kim had

exhausted her supply of Japanese expletives and had turned to her American

lexicon of abuse for reinforcements. Until Rat's arrival, her words

hadn't done much. Now her verbal fire was seemingly transferred from her

mouth to his skin: Reiraku was glowing. Oddly enough, he didn't seem to

notice it.

"RAAAAAAAAAAAANMA! TAKING ADVANTAGE OF A BORROWED BODY TO SATISFY YOUR FOUL NEEDS! HOW DARE YOU?!?"

The room was suddenly filled with analmost blinding flickering light, a candleflame grotesquely magnified. This grabbed the Kodachettes' attentions, for they preferred the dark, and so they turned to find the source of the disturbance to their play. It was Rat, who was running towards them coated in lapping tongues of white

energy.

"Don't worry, Kim! I'll protect yo-"

KRAKABOOM

The biological capacitor that Reiraku had become released all of its

energy in a massive blast that sent him flying into the centre of the

mound of women. Cushioning layers of breast and thigh protected him from

the falling shrapnel, but that proved to be a small blessing. Once the

smoke cleared, he saw that half the room had been reduced to rubble. The

C-Kos he had landed on glared at him, and of the rest those that weren't

tending to their wounds were charging at him, weapons raised.

"Aheheheheh."

I'd had to stay hidden until the last of the girls had run by, but by

then the sound of their feet had given me a rather precise fix on the

auditorium. It's no wonder I hadn't found it; it'd been shifted to one of

the newer wings.

The explosion finished pinpointing the room for us.

"Ranma..." said the ghost, hovering beside me as I ran. "You said he

was alive..."

"Half-alive."

"Do you think that blast could have-"

I turned a corner and noticed green blurred motion peeking through a

crack in the door at the hall's end.

"We're about to find out."

---

My other watch, the one set to Citadel time, told me that there were

only twenty seconds left until the agreed hour. She wouldn't be late.

Not for this.

As I'd predicted, the instant the seconds counter displayed '00' she

appeared in a flash of crimson flame, startling the animals around us into

a symphony of 'baaaa's.

My 'sister' tsk'd.

"Why the sheep, Skeride? I can understand it from a Hikaru, but I

expected more from myself."

Seeing Sicarii is always odd. It makes me think I'm looking into a

fairground mirror, or that it's already Halloween and I'm touching up my

makeup in the bathroom.

I never DID understand why she got those tattoos around her eyes. The

short black hair looks nice on her, I'll give her that. I'd try it

myself, if I weren't scared of the time it'd take to grow it back to the

length I have it at now - but those black diamonds...

"The sheep aren't mine. They're mowing the grass." She'd probably

strangle me if she knew I had my own 'Fleecy' back at the Citadel corral.

It was a present from #426 a few birthdays back. "The Deep Forest

Preserve is the only place for K's without security cams everywhere. I

had to bring you into a meadow section, because I didn't want your

teleport flame setting something on fire."

"I still don't see why we don't just meet at the Cafe."

Yes, she even pronounced the capital.

"I don't feel comfortable there. You know that."

"You didn't seem to mind the loungeful of Reirakus last time we

visited. Which brings us to the main item of business. Did it work?"

I admitted that my night HAD been more pleasant than usual. Sicarii

smiled.

"I knew that would do it. The problem with you, Ske-chan darling, is

that you're too MEEK. If you see something you want, TAKE it! If you

don't, someone else will, and in cases like this that can be tragic. Now..." She stepped back and put her hands on her hips. "Teach it to me."

"Not yet."

"What do you mean, 'not yet'?" She was sputtering. "Our deal was-"

"-that I would teach you the Soul Trap Bubble the day I held Rat

safely in my arms."

"From the look of your hair and the state of your bodysuit, I'd guess

that tonight qualifies."

I remember crossing my fingers and hoping that my loophole was large

enough. I needed... I NEED her help.

"He's bewitched. The American girl's cast a shapeshifting spell on

him, and I can't break it. I've set protective wards, but I still

wouldn't call that safe."

My other did a lot of grunting, but agreed.

"You never told me the girl knew magic."

"I didn't know."

"What's her name?"

"Thompson. Kim Thompson."

Sicarii thought for a moment, then frowned and shook her head. "She

has no equivalent in my reality. What must I do?"

Even before I started listing my conditions, she'd taken her iron

dagger from its holster and begun tracing the needed blood lines on her

right palm.

"Find out more about Thompson," I said,, "and keep tabs on Rat. Make

sure no harm comes to him, natural or otherwise. Once he's free from

enchantment and physical harm and we're together, once he's... he's..." I

faltered. I couldn't think of any gaps I'd left open, but it still didn't

seem airtight.

"I know you want to be thorough in your contract, sister dear, but

'safely in your arms' covers everything you've said, and more." She must

have seen the colour creep up my cheeks, because she added, "Well...

You're right. Not your arms. How about THIS for our renewed agreement?

You will teach me the soul trap bubble the day Reiraku is firmly and

safely established as your paramour."

That sounded right.

I took my own dagger from its place at my hip and drew the contractual

sigils on my hand. I keep my blade sharp, so it didn't hurt. Much.

We were about to seal the contract, when I thought of something.

"'Safe' refers to both the relationship AND the person?"

"Of course. Now, shake." My hand went forward and then back again.

"What is it THIS time?"

"NO killing." That'd be the easiest way for her to keep her side of

the deal, after all. "Kim's my rival, but... well... we're also sorta

friends."

"You take all the fun out of things."

This time I took her hand in mine, and we bound ourselves to the

agreement. At this point I always expect fire and brimstone, but I had to

settle for a weak green flash that signified the consummation of the deal.

"Always a pleasure doing business with myself." Sicarii wiped her

hand on her bodysuit. "When then, shall we meet again? In thunder,

lightning or in rain?"

My 'sister' has lately acquired an annoying habit of misquoting

Shakespeare at the most inopportune moments.

I named a date and time. She agreed with a nod and began walking

towards the treeline.

"Where are you going?" I called to her. "If you 'port in the jungle

region, you'll set fire to the place!"

"Oh, I'm not going back just YET. I have a little sightseeing to do."

I didn't like that one bit, but how could I stop her?

"Just..." My frustration expressed itself as a faint purple glow

around my body. It isn't that unpleasant, really. Cheaper than sun

glasses and twice as effective. Automatically tinted, too. "Just don't

go on any hunts while you're here, Sicarii. This is MY city, in MY

reality, and I'M the Killer of the Dead here. Not you."

"But of course."

She smiled and walked away. I'm still here, looking alternately at my

blood-stained hand and the spot where she disappeared into the foliage.

I bend down and stroke one of the sheep; the feel of its wool

against my hand soothes me as I meditate.

I am Sicarii, and she is me.

So why don't I trust her?

Rat's future was one of bondage and pots. He woke from a knockout

blow only to find himself wrapped in a ribbon cocoon and hanging

upside-down from a structurally unsound rafter above what looked

suspiciously like a tubful of boiling mud. It looked like mud; the colour

was right, and it bubbled and slurped thickly... but it smelled too good

to be dirt. Almost like scented soap. He felt like reaching out and

dipping his finger in it, but even if his arms weren't bound tightly to

his sides, the handcuffs would have made that impossible. Besides, the

rafter was bending at a noticeable, steady pace, and it would be

altogether too soon that he would find himself in intimate contact with

the effervescent glop.

It dawned on him that this would not be pleasant.

"HEEEEEEEEEEELP!" he shouted. "HEEEEEEEEEEELP!"

Screaming forced him to raise his head and glimpse the activity surrounding him. Kim was in

the back and looked concerned, but was impotent in her ghostly form.

Ranma was arguing with the leader of the group, but nothing seemed to come

from it. And around him, several hundred leotarded girls were dancing in

a rather titillating fashion.

A blood drop fell from his nose and fizzled into black solidity upon

the surface of the mud.

"HEEEEEEEEEEELP! HEEEEEEEEEEELP! HEEEE- Huh?"

Reiraku wriggled to face the cause of a loud crash, bringing himself

an inch nearer to the killer complexion booster.

The main door, weakened from the earlier explosion, had been knocked

off its hinges. Childra didn't wait for the dust clouds to clear to walk

into the main chamber.

"Childra! Childra! Here! HEEEEEEEEEELP! HEEEEEEEEEELP!"

Her entrance had startled most of the Kodachettes into defensive

crouches, but they now rushed at her, fleet-footed and snarling. That

proved to be a mistake.

"I'm flattered that you still remember me." Jansen raised a finger

and her assailants went flying. An invisible juggernaut fled from her

hand and knocked everything from its path on its course through the

chamber. Girls and women turned into human tenpins, pairs of skulls

became impromptu castanets and Ranma's jaw dropped with an audible click

while he watched the spectacle.

Kim's ghost, though silent, had its chin below its neckline.

"You didn't tell me your friend was telly... telluh... that she could

move stuff with her mind," whispered Ranma.

Miranda was the last to fall. The unseen force slammed her against

the tub of boiling mud, knocking it over and severing its feeder tube.

"She... can't," answered Kim.

Injured women tried to roll out of the way of the sizzling mudslide

and screamed when their efforts landed them in the growing puddle of

scalding water being fed by the disconnected intake pipe.

"Then... what did all of THAT?"

Childra summoned her machete and used it to slice the ribbon holding

Rat to the roof. He landed with a glop-muffled thud.

"Ranma? I think you'd better change back. NOW."

Ranma didn't react. He continued looking at the bodies, the ruined

room and the new arrival.

"DO IT!"

"What? You wanna make sure Bat-boy's all right, or somethin'?"

"Ranma, will you LISTEN to me? Change, NOW!"

"Okay! I-"

"GO!"

He went. He leapt off the stage and stepped over a few unconscious

acolytes on his way to the warm puddle. Lying down in it didn't hurt, but

the soul transfer did.

"AIEEEEEEEEEEEE! Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot!" Kim screamed enough for

the both of them. Besides, he was tongue-tied by what his spirit eyes

beheld.

He saw a girl.

A familiar girl, with dark close-cropped hair, who wore a dress in

pastel shades of yellow and blue. She held a wooden mallet in her right

hand, and her eyes watered as she looked up at him.

"Ranma?" asked Akane.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Now that I've seen her

There's no way to hide

She is not some fling

From long ago

Now that I've seen her

I know why she lied

And I think it was better when I didn't know."

-Richard Maltby, Jr. & Alab Boublil

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

EPILOGUE

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"She thinks herself the game warden of this reality's Undead." I take

a large gulp of Oolong to clear the bile from my throat. "SHE forbade ME

to hunt on her ground. ME! I, who have scoured more alternities than

she'll ever see! But I might as well please my sister..." By the way my

tablemate arches her eyebrow, I can tell she has the wrong idea - her mind

is a non-stop gutter party. I play along and follow with an ambiguous

statement. "I can bear a small submission for a greater gain. It's not

souls that draw me here."

"Don't rub it in." Oh, that's right... Poor Licky doesn't HAVE one.

Is she mad at me, or just plain mad? I love it when I have to make up.

"Oh?" She doesn't see my hand move under the tabletop. "But you

like it so much when I DO..." I slip my fingers through the slit in the

side of her dress and scratch her leg as hard as I can with my shorn

nails. I hoped for a reaction, and am disappointed. "My 'sister' is in

love."

Our pupils meet. Parleys between us are always multi-tiered; our

tongues say one thing, our eyes another, and both are perfectly

understood. Until it all degenerates into a tumble in which oculi and

linguae play the same role as the remainder of our bodies.

"Who with?" I'm careful in reaching for my blade, but not careful

enough. Autolyca notices the dip in my right shoulder and grabs my

hands, holding both wrists in one firm grip and raising them above my

head. My cufflinks are touching. I could teleport back to the Citadel,

but she knows I won't. It's shearing week.

"Project R," I hiss. My attempts to wriggle out of her grip meet with

all the success of a wasp struggling against a Venus fly-trap. I missed

her knees with my below-table kicks, and now my feet are pinned to the

floor by her own. "She's fallen for your brother."

"Brothers and sisters I have none, and yet this man is my father's

son..." Another one of her quotations. This one I don't recognise.

"Shakespeare?" I can hear the clack of her tongue-stud against her

teeth as she moves in for her reward. My body tells me with a thrill that

letting her take it would not be in the least unpleasant, but that would

involve giving in, and it just won't do. I'm always on top.

"Mother Goose. Reiraku is no brother of mine."

"That's a relief," I mutter, stalling for time.

She pauses. It worked.

"Hrm?"

"If he WERE, this would be... perverse."

"When you put it that way, I'm tempted to hack into the genealogical

files and make him my official sibling." She's right. I'll have to thank

sis later for making our contests more exciting. Her tongue is almost at

my neck now, and her moist breath warms part of my skin and leaves the

area around it feeling colder than before. More shivers. I slip into a

submissive posture, relaxing every muscle, closing my eyes, slowing my

breathing and tilting my head back to expose my neck. Funnily enough,

that's also the perfect state for focusing one's ki.

The bait works beautifully. The slight time Licky spends smiling at

her triumph is all that I need to cast the spell. The suctioning 'O' of

her lips never gets to my skin; I intercept it with a burst of ruby fire

that surrounds me as thoroughly and snugly as the bodysuit I wear.

Autolyca should have known better. On several of our trysts I've used the

flaming aura AS my outfit. She'll need to buy lip balm tomorrow.

The unexpected pain loosens her grip, and I take the opportunity to

disengage myself and flip the table onto her. Tea cups and a pot shatter

behind me. Only Autolyca's upper chest and head protrude from beneath the

table, on which I kneel to ensure her immobility.

"I need you, Licky." I brush the tangled mane of hair from her neck

and put my dagger at her throat.

"For what?" Her mad green eyes move everywhere, analysing the

situation.

"She'll teach me her technique if I deliver the Rat to her as a love

slave." My knife traces faint lines on her face. Not so deep as to scar,

but enough to bring a few drops of blood to the surface. She likes blood.

So do I. "I WANT that ki attack, luv."

"Then you must have it - and it MAY prove interesting. Mind control-"

"Is allowed. I made sure of that." The edge of the table stops me

from bringing my blade any further down. I content myself with carving

arcane symbols onto the fingernails on the hand which Licky's managed to

slide free, but all too soon the manicure is done.

We are at an impasse.

"Neither of us can go further," she agrees.

"Then yield."

"I will not." A troublesome grin. "Not to someone as forgetful as

yourself." I yawn deliberately and theatrically, then coat a finger with

her blood.

"What have I forgotten?" I ask, raising it to my lips.

Too late, I see her long nails make contact with the wooden table.

"The Breaking Point Victory."

A shower of splinters.

A release.

And then our bloody, laugh-filled revels truly begin.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

END GIRL TROUBLE

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	30. Episode 4: Death and the Maidens

The motomech made a sharp bank turn around the corner and headed down the boulevard towards the Nekohanten. Reiraku "Ratiko" Hibiki clenched his arms tighter around the waist of the bleached blonde at the controls of the vehicle.

"I _still _don't see why you wouldn't let me drive," he complained loudly over the rushing wind. "I _did_ pay for half the 'mech, you know."

Childra Jansen kept her eyes ont he road, raising her voice to be heard. "Kim told Shampoo we'd be there at eleven. I plan to make it on time."

"Are you implying that _I_ wouldn't?"

"When I want to take an intercontinental vacation, Ratiko, I'll tell you." A thought suddenly occured to her. "How do you do it, anyways? You get to other countries faster than I could by double-s planes!"

"It's an inherited talent."

Before Childra could reply, they arrived at the Nekohanten, with its two stone cats guarding the entryway. The pair dismounted, walked up to the main door, and knocked on the wood frame door.

After a few seconds the door slid open, revealing Shempoo. She had been waiting some time. Mousse's extended family, who had been running the Nekohanten in her absence, had long since gone to bed.

Shampoo quirked an eyebrow as she looked at Childra, then Rat, and back to Childra again. "Where hus... Where Ranma?"

"He's busy." Childra answered.

"With Akane." Rat piped up. Childra elbowed him in the side, and Rat's eyes widened as he realized what he had just said.

Shampoo's face contprted into a mask of anger. "AKANE? SHE HERE? Nasty boy lie! Akane dead! Akane kill herself!"

Childra sighed and addressed the Amazon. "I take it you're Shampoo."

"Gee, what ever gave you THAT idea?" Rat said, sarcasm oozing out of every word.

Childra glared at him. "You remember what I did with that sheet?"

Rat nodded, idly rubbing his butt in remembrance.

"I can do worse things." Childra finished. She let Rat satand there gawking and turned back to Shampoo. "Look, Shampoo. You're BOTH right. Yes, Akane killed herself; goodness knows that's one of the reasons Kunou Tatewaki became a monk..."

Rat piped up again. "Wait...Akane knew Kunou Tatewaki? THE Kunou Tatewaki?"

Childra tunred and gave Rat a look right in the eye that caused the Hibiki to cringe. "Reiraku, we will have plenty of time to talk about this later. OK?" Rat quickly nodded his assent. Childra turned back to Shampoo. "She died, yes, but because she killed herself..."

Shampoo groaned, lessons that Cologne had given her in folklore coming to her mind. She should have seen this coming.

"Akane ghost." A statement, not a question.

Childra nodded and Shampoo groaned again.

_I am an idiot._ the Amazon thought. _ I should have made the ghost-ridding potion as well. And of COURSE, I don't have the right herbs..._

Childra's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"They had a bit of... Catching up to do, so we left Kim and Ranma with her and came to see you alone."

"When Ranma come?" Shampoo asked, an unpleasanmt thought coming to her. "Ranma come, right?"

Childra smiled. "Don't worry," she leaned in close to Shampoo so Rat couldn't hear. "He'd never leave you, Shampoo, if half of what Kim told me's right..."

Shampoo let out a sigh of relief. "Shampoo thank nice girl. What nice girl's name?"

"Childra Jansen, at your service." The historian bowed. Shampoo returned it.

They were interrupted by Rat's voice.

"Saotome'll be here at around midnight," he stated, clearly eager to get away from the woman who had tried to cook him back in China. "I think I'll wait in the next room..."

"Why no go to Shampoo room? There TV, music..."

Childra stilfed a laugh as Rat startted sweating. The poor boy looked like he was ready to tear right through the wall to get away from Shampoo.

"No... That's all right... I'll..." Rat gulped and pointed in a random direction. "I'll be right there."

"Rat?" Childra said quietly.

"Hm?"

"You're pointing at the garbage chute."

"Er... Right... Well then, this way..." He set off towards the main entrance. Childra sighed and turned back to Shampoo.

"You'd better get back to your room and get some rest. I'd better hang around to make sure he doesn't end up in Antarctica..."

"Nice Childra girl sure?" Shampoo asked.

Childra smiled. "Yeah, I'll be fine... Get yourself some rest, lass." She winked. "You'll need it when Ranma gets here."

Shampoo returned the wink with a naughty smile and left for the back of the restaurant. As soon as she was out of sight, her shoulders slumped. These late nights were getting to her.

As she climbed the stairs she frowned.

_Akane..._

--

Time passed. The digital clock on the wall read 12:43 AM,. Rat paced the floor of the dining room, while Childra sat at one of the tables, idly playing with a pair of cheap plastic chopsticks.

"Where is she?" Rat dmenaded, causing Childra to look at him and quirk an eyebrow amusedly. "Or, 'he.' Or, 'them'..." "

Childra grinned as he tried to figure out the grammar. He finally gave up and snarled at her. "You know who I mean."

Childra nodded. "They'll be here. They do have to deal with the C-Ko, after all."

Rat sighed and resumed his pacing. "I guess you're right..."

As he headed towards the far wall, there was a flash of blue light and suddenly, there were three people int he room instead of two. The newcomer was a tall Japanese boy with long black hair tied in a ponytail. He looked aroudn confusedly.

"This can't be right..." he murmered. He stared at his right hand, which was clenched in a fist. "Focus, Ryo, focus."

Unfortunately, he was so focused on the hand, rather than on his surroundings, that he failed to notice Ratiko, who typically, wasn't watching where he wass going. The two collided, and vanished through a slowly-shrinking ring of silver-blue energy.

Total elapsed time: seven seconds.

Childra blinked and jumped to her feet, frowning at what she just saw.

"Well, THIS can't be good."

She grabbed her bo from the floor and dove through the ring of energy just before it winked out altogether.

--

**Episode 4: Death and the Maidens **

--

'While yet a boy I sought for ghosts, and sped

Through many a listening chamber, cave and ruin,

And starlight wood, with fearful steps pursuing

Hope of high talk with the departed dead.

... I was not heard - I saw them not -

When musing deeply on the lot

Of life, at that sweet time when things are wooing

All vital things that wake to bring News of birds and blossoming,

- Sudden, thy shadow fell on me; I shrieked, and clasped my hands in ecstasy!'

-Percy Bysshe Shelley From 'Hymn to Intellectual Beauty'

--

**Church of Kodachi Headquarters, Main Auditorium **

Ranma looked at his watch. At KIM'S watch. It'd been almost eight hours since he'd gotten here, and he'd still not been able to SEE Akane for more than a few seconds, much less SPEAK to her. After he'd spilled boiling water on himself, so he could see her spirit, he'd had to change back in a hurry, before Lepi had a chance to kill Thompson. Seemed those friggin' Kodachi-worshippers could hide their weapons ANYWHERE... Must've been quite uncomfortable to keep that piano wire in a bra... Bra? Of course! That's what felt so tight around his chest... Kim may call HIM hentai, but SHE'S the one who slept in the rubber-and- lace.

_No sense in takin' it off NOW, though._

If all went well, he'd be back in spirit form soon, and Kim would need it when she took the body. Not much left to do - everything seemed more or less taken care of. He'd manage to convince the High Priestess that Akane's rampage had been the result of their trying to hurt Rat against his direct orders. She swallowed it without a single question.

_Guess they really DO think I'm a god..._

It wasn't too difficult to add a cover story for Kim. Instead of bein' 'Ranma Satana', she was now his avy... ava.. Whatever the heck that word was for the human representative of a god. She'd kindly offered her body so that he could manifest his 'divine essence' on Earth. They still despised her, but now the Kodachettes were jealous of her, instead of just hatin' her. At least they wouldn't try to bump 'er off, now.

After that little scene, Ratiko and Childra had left in a hurry for Shampoo's. She'd be upset that he wasn't there, but she'd have to live with that. Catching up with Akane (and finding out why the heck she was a ghost!) was more important. He turned to Kim.

"Did we forget anythin'?" he asked.

"Akane says to find a private room where you two can talk."

"Hai."

That was ONE thing he DIDN'T need to be reminded of. Now, where was Lepi? He looked around. The meeting hall had been repaired in a jiffy. Just like their mistress, the acolytes healed pretty quickly. Then again, they hadn't been ki-blasted. Ranma rubbed his sore jaw. Where'd that pip-squeak LEARN that, anyway?

Cologne was gone, and Shampoo had been at Jusenkyo... That attack of his was just as strong as any of Ryouga's.

_Must run in the family,_ thought Ranma. In true Hibiki style, the explosion had turned about a third of the place into rubble, even though most of the building was made of marble and granite. It'd taken a few hours, even with organised streams of leotarded girls methodically carting debris away, but eventually the place had been cleared, and the only remnant of Rat's little outburst was a gaping void where a side-room used to be. Now the acolytes were all in rows again, bowing in front of him, but their leader didn't seem to be among them... Maybe... A tap on his shoulder.

"Ranma-sama?"

"Huh?"

He turned around. Sure enough. There was Lepi Kodachi Demie, in full regalia and with a huge smile on her face.

"Oh. It's you. Look, I have to..."

"I have something for you."

"What?"

"I know you are eager to leave us, but before you do, there is something I must give you."

_Uh-oh..._ The last time Ranma had heard a phrase like that, it had come from the mouth of Kunou Tatewaki, and had been the start of all the troubles with the 'pig-tailed goddess'. If Lepi pulled out a bouquet of roses...

"Whaddya wanna give me?"

"We are the Church of Kodachi in name, but it is YOU we worship. Now that you have returned, you are, of course, our rightful leader."

"Leader? But... Lepi... I..." Ranma sighed. "Look; I'd love to stay and take place in all your ceremonies, but I really must be going. I have... uh... CLASSES! Yeah, that's it! I have to study... Physics, with... uh... numbers and stuff..."

From the corner of his eye, Ranma could see Kim burying her face in her hands.

"No need to worry, Ranma-sama. We know that even the divine have mundane needs when in mortal guise, and we would never DREAM of interfering with your worldly affairs." Lepi paused for a moment, then grinned. "Well, maybe we would DREAM of it, but..."

Ranma blushed.

"I thought you'd be USED to girls chasing after you," said Kim.

"But... Then what..."

"We simply want you to remember that we are all under your command. And, for that, we wish to give you THIS."

_Please. Let it not be roses. Anything but roses._ What Lepi pulled out was a rather nice-looking wristwatch.

"A watch?" Ranma was puzzled.

"Not just ANY watch. It's also an A/V link to the Church's main computer. Simply press this button," Lepi pointed at a small red button on the side of the watch, "and an alarm will ring in the control centre. Whoever's on duty will answer at once, and fulfil your request."

"What kinda requests?"

"Anything..." said the High Priestess, in a sultry voice. Ranma decided to ignore it. Kim was already looking angry enough, which meant Akane was probably close to exploding. If he went on any further, he'd probably have another 'Roaring Lion Bullet' and mallet rampage to deal with.

"Anything, as in, 'I'd like some Ramen but I don't have cash, could you bring me some' anything, or anything, like 'I'm in danger, please send a squad of fighters' anything?"

"Either, or both."

"Ok... I just press this button, right?"

"Correct. Shall I put it on?" Kim looked at the pair angrily.

"Er... I'll put it on myself."

Lepi bowed, and handed him the timepiece. "As you wish, Ranma-sama."

He took the black plastic watch from her, and put it on his right hand, since Kim's own was already on his left wrist. As he did, he noticed the Kodachettes. All seven hundred were still assembled, silent and kneeling.

"Lepi?"

"Yes?"

"The... The acolytes..." Ranma gestured at the meeting hall floor.

"What about them?"

"How long will they stay like that?"

"For as long as you remain here, or until you order them to do otherwise."

"Oh." A pause. "That reminds me..."

"Anything for you, Ranma-sama."

"Yes... Um... I need to be alone for a while. Would you..."

"Oh, of course!" Lepi nodded. "It must be horribly emotional to return and see how faithful our foundress was to you. Naturally, I will leave you two alone. Take all the time you need."

"You two?" asked Kim. "She can't see me, or Akane, so..." Her eyes grew wide. "Ranma, she'd better not be talking about that TANK..."

"Here," said Lepi, pulling a keycard out of her pocket and giving it to Ranma. "This will open the panels hiding the storage tank, and will also give you access to the computer. Just stick it in the slot and follow the directions on-screen."

"It IS the tank," grumbled Kim. She turned for a minute, and listened. "You don't know about it yet," she told the invisible Akane, "and believe me, it's best to keep it that way. Heck, I didn't know the person involved, and even I was in danger of losing my lunch!"

"Thank-you. Just one more thing..." "In what else may I be of service, Ranma-sama?"

"I'm a bit tired after all this. Do you happen to have any tea, or coffee?"

"Good thinking," said Kim. Ranma nodded.

"Of course!" Lepi snapped her fingers. "Marie! Ranma-sama wishes for coffee!" One of the girls on the floor stood up, nodded, and went into an adjoining room.

"Could I just take a pot in with me?" asked Ranma. "That is what I assumed you would want," replied Lepi. In less than a minute, Marie returned with a silver coffee service. "I apologise for not serving you in our gold set, but it's out for re-plating."

"That's all right. Really!"

"If you say so, Ranma-sama."

"Now I... Uh... I think I'll go in, now."

"Of course."

Ranma took the tray from the Kodachette, and walked towards the door leading to the sanctum. As he opened the portal with the keycard, he could hear the sound of fourteen hundred slippered feet scuffling out of the meeting hall.

--

**The Kunou Foundation, Nerima Control Centre **

That Ranma clone was better than she'd realised, thought Perdita. Even the C-Kos couldn't tell him from the real thing. As far as the last available security tapes were concerned, the Kodachettes were worshipping him as if he were a minor deity. Annoying, though. The recordings just... stopped... when those two figures broke down the door.

She looked at the screen captures again. No use. There was too much dust in those few frames to make out any features clearly, even with computer enhancement. Perdita frowned at the other readouts.

There'd been some sort of explosion at C-Ko HQ; that much was for certain. No matter how much they tried to hide any DIRECT evidence, the air ionisation readings, sound levels, and other less direct measurements were all quite tell-tale. There was NO WAY that the air temperature outside the Church's west wing could keep itself above 373 K for more than thirty milliseconds on its own.

However, anytime she tried to get a direct statement of what had happened from the computer, it'd jam on her. She tried again.

"Computer; access C-Ko feed for time interval 6820-6825."

THAT INFORMATION IS NOT AVAILABLE.

"Of COURSE it's available! That's how we get most of our information on that group! Spit it out!"

THAT INFORMATION IS NOT AVAILABLE.

"Guess I'll have to be more specific. Computer, access C-Ko security camera readings, sector 12, units 4 and 5, for time interval 6820-6825."

THE REQUESTED INFORMATION IS NOT AVAILABLE

"Why not?"

ACCESS DENIED.

"WHAT?!"

ACCESS DENIED.

"I heard, but WHY? Who has more access than I do?"

DIRECTOR TANARO ONO.

"Get him on for me, then. I want him to get this information."

DIRECTOR ONO IS ALREADY RECEIVING THE REQUESTED TRANSMISSIONS.

Perdita blinked. So he WAS, was he? Her fingers raced across the keyboard. Better do this the old-fashioned way, since she hadn't been having any luck with the neural link. Let's see... File transfers, data flux... Here it was. Sure enough. He was getting all the information she wanted dumped directly onto his hard drive, while it was simultaneously erased from everywhere else. Bastard.

"Computer, why is Director Ono interested in this data?"

THAT INFORMATION IS CLASSIFIED.

Hmm... There might be a way to get around the security programming...

"Really? Considering who I am, I should have clearance for it."

TENDO PERDITA DOES NOT HAVE CLEARANCE FOR THE REQUESTED INFORMATION. ACCESS DENIED.

"I have clearance for everything ELSE I've run across. Why not THIS?"

INFORMATION PERTAINS TO PROJECT R. TENDO PERDITA DOES NOT HAVE CLEARANCE FOR PROJECT R INFORMATION. ACCESS DENIED.

"Let me guess. Only Director Ono has clearance, ne?"

NEGATIVE.

"Oh?" She arched an eyebrow. "Director Ono and SOMEONE ELSE have clearance?"

AFFIRMATIVE.

"Computer; list people with clearance for project R information."

ACCESS DENIED.

Better try a roundabout route. "Computer, what level clearance is needed for Project R?"

SECURITY LEVEL ALPHA, SPECIAL GRANT, IS REQUIRED.

Good. Now they were getting somewhere. "Computer, what projects for which I am responsible require security level alpha?"

SEARCHING... RESULTS OF SEARCH: MILITARY OPERATIONS DATABASE MAINTENANCE; MILITARY OPERATIONS SUPPLIERS LIST; MILITARY OPERATIONS...

"I get the point. Stop."

QUERY RESULT LIST PRINTOUT HALTED.

"Computer, I've decided to send out an update on Japan's military operations. Kindly assemble a recipient list."

LIST ASSEMBLED.

"Print it out, please. On-screen only."

RECIPIENT LIST: ONO TANARO, HIBIKI PENELOPE, PROJECT R MAILER.

"List recipients in Project R mailer."

ACCESS DENIED.

_Figures... This should be enough, though._ Project 'R'. The R obviously stood for Ranma, so it must have something to do with the clone. Now, what were an Ono and a Hibiki doing with a SAOTOME clone?

"Computer, list information on Hibiki Penelope." The standard social security file came on-screen. Picture, personal data... Not much of interest, apart from the family name. Married for over twenty years, had a son in pre-med at U of Tokyo and a twelve-year- -old daughter, lived in a nice area of town in a spacious mansion... All in all, her profile looked like that of the perfect society housewife. Why'd she have alpha clearance, then? And what did she have to do with project R?

Perdita sighed. Seemed the only way she'd find out anything more about this would be to check it out herself. There was NO way she'd let this pass. If that explosion had destroyed the Ranma duplicate, she wanted to know, and she also needed to find out exactly WHY her employer was so hot on keeping all this info to himself.

"Computer, how long have I been working today?"

YOU HAVE BEEN AT THE TERMINAL FOR FOURTEEN HOURS, SIX MINUTES AND TWENTY-FIVE SECONDS.

"Good enough. I'm taking my break now; I'll be back in time to finish off the work schedule."

ACCESS DENIED.

"To my break?"

CONTRACT FOR TENDO PERDITA, PARAGRAPH FIVE, CLAUSE THREE.

"Refresh my memory, will you?

" BEGIN QUOTE. TENDO PERDITA WILL TAKE AN EIGHT-HOUR BREAK FOR EVERY SIXTEEN HOURS OF WORK. THIS BREAK SHALL BE AWARDED UPON COMPLETION OF SAID WORK PERIOD. END QUOTE.

"You're kidding. I have to stay here for another two hours?"

NEGATIVE.

"Oh? I can go, then?"

YOU MAY GO IN ONE HOUR, FIFTY-TWO MINUTES AND SIX SECONDS.

"Gee, thanks."

YOU ARE WELCOME.

She could swear that this machine was developing a sense of humour.

"Have my hover-car waiting for me outside the main gate at one minute past that time, will you?"

HOVERCAR PROGRAM COMPLETE.

Now all she had to do was wait. She glanced at her readouts. The fun must've stopped, because the C-Ko camera readings were available again.

Let's see... Whoa. That had been SOME explosion. They'd cleaned up, but a huge chunk of the west wing was missing, like it had never existed. To her dismay, the fake Ranma was still alive, and looking quite well. Chikusho. He was walking into that blasted sanctum of theirs. The C-Kos might not guard their OTHER transmissions that closely, but those two rooms had security tighter'n the Kunou Foundation's special conference room. No use in watching any further.

"Computer, I'm going back to normal monitoring and maintenance functions until my break. Alert me of any entrances or exits into C-Ko HQ."

AFFIRMATIVE. NOTIFICATION WILL BE GIVEN OF ANY INGRESS OR EGRESS FROM THE BUILDING.

"Thanks."

YOU ARE WELCOME.

Perdita sighed, and went back to work.

--

**Church of Kodachi Headquarters, Inner Sanctum **

The door to the sanctum closed behind the trio, and electric lights came on automatically. Thankfully, the panels to the formaldehyde tank were closed. Ranma didn't think his stomach could put up with another viewing of the two corpses. He'd barely avoided retching last time, as it was.

"Did Akane come with you?" he asked.

"Of course," answered Kim. "She's right next to me."

He couldn't believe it. He was finally going to see her again, after all this... After all he'd been through... He picked up the pitcher of coffee, and prepared to pour some over his hand, before thinking of something.

"Kim?"

"Yes?"

"Will you be all right? I mean, it's just going to be the two of us talking, and..."

Kim snickered. "Don't pretend you're worried about my getting bored. I know you just want to be alone with your girl-friend."

Ranma blushed.

"It's not like you can hide it, you know. If it's any consolation, Akane's blushing, too." Suddenly, Kim reeled from an invisible blow. "Ow! What was THAT for?" A pause. "Ok, ok! No more teasing, I promise!" She turned to Ranma. "Anyway, I'll just keep myself busy reading files off the C-Ko database. Gotta admit, there's no better way to learn about your past."

"Well, you could always try ASKING me!"

"I stand corrected. There's no more RELIABLE way to learn about your past."

"What's THAT supposed to mean?!"

Kim sighed. "Don't worry about it. Just go on and spill that stuff on yourself."

"Hai." He tipped the pitcher over his left hand. As soon as the hot liquid touched his skin, he was transported out of the body and into spirit form where Kim had been standing. Next to Akane. She looked exactly like she had a century ago, down to the clothes she was wearing. Akane wore a knee-length pastel blue dress with soft yellow accents, while a sky-blue diadem kept her close-cropped hair in place.

"Ranma!" she shouted, with arms outstretched, and rushed forward to meet him. Unfortunately, she went right through him, and had to float off the ground and spin herself around to avoid leaving the room altogether. "I... I forgot."

Ranma grinned, and they both began to laugh. They laughed not so much because of the accident, but more because of the general situation. It was the laugh of those who have feared danger and lived through it (well... more or less...) with a bit of a nervous titter for uncertainty about the future mixed in with it. After a time, guffaws subsided into quiet giggles, and then into silence, as the dead looked each other in the eye. The Tendo girl's eyes twinkled with spiritual tears, and her mouth twitched up into a smile. Ranma noticed, and lowered his gaze.

"Thanks for takin' out those girls," he said. "We really owe you on that one... How'd ya manage it, anyway?"

"Oh, THAT." Akane closed her eyes and concentrated, while raising her right hand. In moments, what looked for all the world like her old two- foot wooden mallet materialised within her grip. Ranma stared, bug-eyed.

"Can you actually HIT people with that thing?"

"Only when I'm angry. Ghosts have a lot of ki, but we need strong emotions to focus it enough to affect the physical world. I was pretty angry, after what Childra told me, about you and..." She turned her face away, and lowered the mallet. It disappeared.

"Akane..."

"It's been a long hundred years," she said softly. "Very long."

Ranma opened his mouth to speak, but he could say nothing. For him it hadn't been a hundred years, but the blinking of an eye. One moment he'd been walking to school, and the next... He looked at Kim through Akane's translucent body.

"Does everyone who dies become a ghost?" he asked.

Akane smiled weakly. "No. Only a few." She grinned, but her eyes betrayed her sadness. "The chosen few."

"So, why'd ya end up... Like this?"

Silence.

"Um... I... Think I'll take a look at the computers... Now..." said Kim, who up until then had been listening to the exchange. Trying to be inconspicuous, she walked over to one of the monitors and began the process of figuring out the database management system.

"Did ya have any of that 'unfinished business' everyone keeps talkin' about?"

"I... I suppose you could say that. Yeah. I guess I DID." She looked at him, and Ranma could swear that her eyes were watering, even as a ghost. "But now..."

_Uh-oh._ He had to change the topic, quickly, before things got serious. "Anou... Nice dress, Akane."

The spirit beamed. "You like it?" She raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't what you said a century ago..."

"What?"

"It's the same dress I was wearing when..." A pause. "When you had that fight with Chia."

"Oh, yeah... I remember..."

"You'd said it looked too feminine for an 'uncute tomboy' like me."

"Well... I... That's changed. I mean..." Akane giggled. Giggled? THAT was new. And worrying. Death had not been kind to her, it seemed. Maybe she'd gone senile?

"Akane... Just curious. How old were you when you... Well... You know..."

"I'm still a virgin, Ranma." She sighed. "And that's not going to change now, is it?"

Ranma face-faulted. Wait a minute. A virgin. You mean she'd... She'd never married? "That WASN'T what I was asking about!" _But thanks for telling me. It's nice to know you didn't get hitched to anyone else. _"I wanted ta know how long ya lived to!"

Akane froze.

"Somethin' wrong, Akane?"

"No... It's just that..."

"Well? How long? Fifty, sixty, seventy?"

"No!"

"Eighty? Come on, I can deal with it! We're both dead now, and you can look like anythin' ya like, so it doesn't really matter."

Akane closed her eyes and turned away. "Sixteen," she said softly.

"What?"

"Sixteen." Firm, this time.

"SIXTEEN? Whaddya mean, sixteen?!" Ranma's late fiance spun around and glared at him.

"I JUMPED OFF A BRIDGE, OK?!"

Wait a minute... She'd... She'd what??

"You killed yourself?"

"I CAN'T SWIM. REMEMBER??"

"Why?"

"Maybe I actually CARED for you! Ever thought of THAT?"

Ranma felt a chill. He'd been avoiding this for over a century, and NOW she 'fessed up? She had to be joking. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

"You'd died, and I was ALONE. Did you ever think of that, Ranma? I couldn't take that loneliness... Not with the memory of how FULL I'd been, while you were around. Once you left, everything seemed empty, like one of those painted eggshells after you've drained the insides out."

"You didn't need ME! You had so much goin' for ya! Every guy at school was after you, since you're pretty an' all, and..."

"Oh, so NOW you admit I'm CUTE?" A green battle aura began to form around her. This was bad. Very bad. Ranma gulped as he remembered what had happened to the seven hundred Kodachettes.

"That's NOT what I MEANT!"

"So you STILL think I'm an UNCUTE TOMBOY?" She stood and raised her hand, her mallet once again materialising in it. This time, it was glowing green. "Then take THIS!" Akane began the downward swing.

"Um... It IS! It IS what I meant! I..." Ranma began to apologise, but it was too late. The ki-object connected, and sent him flying across the room, through the plastic panels at the far end.

"Ranma!" Akane let go of the mallet as she ran in the direction she'd sent him. As soon as it fell from her fist, the wooden hammer dissolved into nothingness. The ghost ran through the wall and into the room where Ranma had landed. Inside, it was dark. That wasn't a problem, though, since both their spirit forms glowed a soft white. Slowly, as to not to go through him, Akane took the prone Ranma's head and cradled it in her arms.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me..." she whispered. "Are... Are you all right?"

Ranma groaned and slowly opened his eyes. It seemed even spirits could feel pain, if hit the right way. He looked up. With that dim light coming from her, she looked almost...

"Tenshi..." he mumbled. Akane's eyes widened. Had she heard?

"Ranma?" she asked, puzzled. He smiled at her.

"I love you too, Akane." Suddenly, the lights were switched on and the panels opened. It was Kim.

"Sorry to bust your bubble, but we have to leave. NOW." she said.

"What?" asked Ranma, as he stood up and released himself from Akane's grip. "Why? It's not like the C-Ko's gonna hurt us, or anythin'..."

Akane just stared in shock, motionless, at the now-illuminated formaldehyde tank.

"Someone's awfully interested in Rat's ki-blast. I just found out they've been draining the info from C-Ko security and piping it directly to some mainframe in the Kunou Foundation. If they find out about you, there could be trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" "Let's just say the Kunou Foundation is big. Very big. You DON'T want to get involved with them, if you can possibly help it."

"Ranma, is that..." Akane pointed at the bodies floating in the pale yellow fluid.

"Long story," said Ranma.

"You bet," said Kim. "They basically took over most of the legal functions of the government after-"

"I was talkin' to Akane."

"Oh."

He turned to the ghost. "Don't worry 'bout it. Makes ME sick, too, but there's nothin' we can do 'bout it. I'll explain it all later."

"I can't believe that... That PERVERT! I'd always known she was bad, but THIS!" Akane was shaking with rage, a crimson aura forming around her.

"Don't WORRY 'bout it!" "That's right... Akane hadn't seen the corpses before, had she?" Ranma shook his head.

"Oh, dear," said Kim. "Well, tell your girlfriend that we really should get going. Shamps is waiting for us at the Nekohanten, I want to stop off at res to shower and get changed, and we've gotta be out of here before some KF agent comes snoopin' around the place."

"My... My GIRLFRIEND?" Both spirits began to glow a bright red.

Kim shrugged. "Call 'er what you like," she said. "It's all the same to me. In any case, let's hurry. Say your goodbyes."

"Goodbyes? Why?"

"I can't exactly walk out of here in THIS form, unless you want them to think I'm Ranma Satana again."

"Oh, yeah." Ranma and Akane looked each other in the eyes. "It's just 'til we get out," he said.

"I know."

Kim tapped her foot impatiently. "Ok, ok! I'm COMING! Geeze..."

Thompson took the pitcher of water, still there from her 'interrogation', and tipped it over her right hand. Ranma put down the pitcher and walked back into the meeting hall. Outside, Lepi was waiting for him.

"I trust your time with the Foundress was satisfactory?" she asked.

"Yeah. Swell. Now, I've really got to get going..."

"No kidding. I've already missed what? Five lectures? If things like this keep on happening, I won't pass the year!"

"I see..." replied the Priestess. "Do you require transportation?"

"Rat and Childra took the 'mech with them."

"Yeah. We'll need something to ride in. Um... Could you help?"

Lepi grinned. "ALREADY using the royal 'WE'? Seems you're more used to us than you care to admit..."

"Baka!"

"Sorry 'bout that." Ranma rubbed the back of his head with his hand. "Slip of the tongue."

"I think it suits you," said Lepi. "In any case, we'll be DELIGHTED to drive you to your residence. We WILL provide you with a PERSONAL vehicle, of course, but since we only learned of your reappearance recently, the hover-car can't be here before tomorrow afternoon."

"Well, well..." said Kim. "Looks like being the object of the C-Ko's worship mightn't be THAT bad, after all." Ranma nodded.

"Are you ready, Ranma-sama?" "Hai." "This way, please."

_Author's note: 'Tenshi' 'Angel', in Japanese._

--

**The Kunou Foundation, Nerima Control Centre**

ALERT: VEHICLE HAS EMERGED FROM CHURCH OF KODACHI HEADQUARTERS, NORTH GARAGE.

"What?" Perdita looked up from her calculations. Oh. Someone had left C-Ko HQ. "What kind of vehicle? Helicopter, jeep, tank..."

LIMOUSINE. COMPOSITION: TEN-KARAT GOLD FRAME WITH LAPIS LAZULI DETAILING. REGISTRATION NUMBER: 5K1-0728. FURTHER DETAILS?

"No... That's all right. Just give me their general direction." If this was who she thought it was...

THE CURRENT HEADING OF THE LIMOUSINE IS KUNOU HALL, UNIVERSITY OF TOKYO.

_Bingo._ "Computer, how much longer do I need to work?"

YOU HAVE FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LEFT IN YOUR WORK SCHEDULE.

Chikusho. She'd have to sit it out. Hopefully they'd stay put. If not... Well, she could always track them again. Perdita smiled to herself. This was beginning to be... Interesting. A gold limo? The C-Ko must have REALLY been impressed by the Ranma clone. Then again, it seemed that Onocorp WAS involved with Project R, and they WERE the world leaders in that kind of thing. How ironic, to think that the technology developed in trying to revive her would be used to bring Saotome back to life.

"Computer, confirm programming of my hover-car. It's still set to pick me up at a minute after the end of my work schedule, right?"

PROGRAMMING CONFIRMED.

"Good. Feed it the Kunou Hall co-ordinates, and pre-program the quickest route between here and there into the navmap. Include traffic variables. Download the latest ones from TRAFCON, if you need to."

PLEASE WAIT. DOWNLOADING VARIABLES. DOWNLOAD COMPLETE. ASSEMBLING MATRICES... CALCULATIONS COMPLETE. COURSE COMPUTED. DATA TRANSMITTED. YOUR REQUEST HAS BEEN PROCESSED.

"Thanks."

YOU ARE WELCOME.

"Oh, and Computer?"

PLEASE INPUT QUERY.

"Kindly set your politeness protocol flag to 'off'."

PROPERTY SET.

_There. Much better_.

--

**University of Tokyo, Kunou Hall **

Ranma slipped the keycard into the door to Kim's room, and it slipped open with a hiss.

"Welcome back," he said. Kim nodded to someone next to her.

"Thanks!" She turned to Ranma. "Akane likes my room. She wonders whether you'll be able to live with someone as tidy as I am, though."

"Hey! I'M neat! When was I ever messy?"

Kim sighed. "Never mind. Hurry up and get some hot water."

"You want to shower already?"

"It's not that. I have some messages."

"Huh?"

"The red blinking light on the desk. Someone called while we were out."

"Oh."

"It's probably Childra, or Shampoo wondering why we didn't show, so I kind of want to answer it as soon as possible."

"Gotcha." Ranma left, and went into the washroom across the hall. A few seconds later, Kim Thompson walked back into the room, where Ranma was now in spirit form.

"This is going to get annoying," said Akane. "It was bad enough when you turned into a GIRL, but NOW you go in between being a ghost like me, and not being ABLE to notice me at ALL"

Ranma shrugged. "Could be worse," he said.

"What?! You LIKE being bonded to that... To that... To that GAIJIN??"

"Of course not! It's not like I CHOSE to be, or anything! I was DEAD, and Shampoo put my soul IN that stupid body!"

"I happen to LIKE this body," said Kim, with poison in her voice. "Is there anything WRONG with it?"

"Kim! I didn't see you come in..."

"Don't worry. As soon as I find out about some way to split us without killing me, I'll go through with it. You won't have to ENDURE this 'stupid body' any longer than you HAVE to."

"Good!"

"WHAT?!"

"Er... I mean... Oh, boy."  
"I'll check my messages now," Kim said coldly. "Enjoy your GIRLFRIEND."

"You still haven't learned to keep that big mouth of yours shut," said Akane, shaking her head. "Do you PRACTICE making girls unhappy, or is it just a talent of yours?"

"Akane..."

"Not that I MIND that she dislikes you..." The ghost winked, then whispered, "Less competition."

"You never used to be this... Friendly..."

"Try a hundred years of loneliness. It'll work wonders. After that much time, one gets to be fond of even a hentai, like you."

She smiled, and bent over to ruffle his hair. Unfortunately, she did so a little too vigorously, and her hand went through his head. They began to laugh, but were interrupted by a sound coming from the speakerphone on the desk.

'Voice-check.'

"Kim Thompson."

'Authorised voice confirmed. You have. Two. New messages.'

"Play first message," said Kim, calmly and crisply so the computer would understand.

'First unheard message. Broadcast from. Nekohanten Restaurant. At. Ten. Fifty. Two. P. M. "Click" End of message.'

"Delete message."

'Message deleted.'

"Must've been Shampoo," said Ranma. "She's not used to all these electronics yet, so she probably didn't want to leave a message."

Kim nodded. "Next message."

'Second unheard message. Broadcast from. Unknown Location. Long- Distance. At. Eleven. Oh. One. P. M.'

A woman's voice - soprano - came from the speaker. 'Hello, Darling! It's Mom. Thought we'd forgotten all about your birthday, didn't you? Well, surprise! The company's sending me to Japan next week, and I'm going two days early so that I can meet you on your birthday. We can go out to a restaurant, and you can introduce me to all those friends you keep telling me about. Especially that Hibiki boy you always mention. When are you going to get SERIOUS with him? Listen to me, honey, if you don't nab him NOW, another gal WILL, and it's not often you come across someone so good-looking, and RICH. I'll have more to say about that when I see you next week. Good luck with your studies! Oh, yes. Dad and P-bar say hi.'

'End of message. Delete or Save message?'

Silence.

'Delete or Save message?'

Nothing.

"Kim? You gonna do somethin' bout that machine?"

"Delete message," she said quietly.

'Message deleted. End of new messages.'

"Disconnect."

'Goodbye!'

"Polite machine..."

Kim wasn't looking very well. Her face had suddenly become drawn and pale, her eyes were watering, and her fists were clenched and trembling.

"What's wrong? If it's about Ratiko, that's all right. I suspected you had somethin' for him, and Akane would've found out soon enough..."

"It's not about Ratiko."

"Then what? C'mon! Tell me!"

Kim paused, closed her eyes, then took a deep breath. "My mother is coming to see me."

"I heard."

"Next week."

"Yes..."

"HOW am I going to explain this to her? How am I going to explain YOU to her? Do I just say, 'Sorry, Mom, I haven't taken any cold showers because that'll make me turn into a male Japanese jock'?"

"Uh-oh. Well... It's all right, I think. Just so long as you don't get near any cold water for the visit. It's only a day or two, right?"

"She's here on company business. Could be a week."

Ranma was still for a moment, then blushed. "Akane wants me to tell you that it's all right with her if you keep the body for the week." After a while, he added, "That goes for me, too."

Thompson shook her head. "It's still no good. As soon as she comes, she'll hear about you from any female worth her estrogen on campus, and of COURSE she'll ask questions, starting with, 'If he lives with you, where IS he?' And did you hear the way she went on about RAT? Geeze; when she finds out about you, she'll probably think we're SERIOUS!"

"Don't laugh, Akane!"

"Heh. I can see why she'd find it funny. 'Why, yes, mother. I guess you COULD say that we are one of body'..."

"Couldn't that be a way out, though?"

"What?"

"Well, we could pretend that... You know..." A mallet-shaped impression formed quite suddenly on Ranma's skull. "Only for that week! Just to get her out of hot water."

"Poor choice of words, Ranma."

"Sorry."

"That MIGHT work... Except I've already told everyone here you're my cousin."

"Your mother KNOWS that's not true."

"Right. My cover'd be blown anyway. Well... Looks like we're stuck as an item for the week, jock. Hey, who knows? Something good might come out of it all. Maybe she'll give up that obsession of hers of trying to hitch me to Rat..."

"Um... Just one problem."

"What is it?"

"We can't appear together at the same time."

"No big deal. We can find excuses. I hope." Outside, a clock tolled the hour. "Oh, shoot!" said Kim. "It's one already! We'd better get to the Nekohanten, pronto!"

"What about your shower?"

"It can wait."

"Isn't it a bit late... I mean... Early, to go?"

Kim sighed. "Lemme put it this way, Brainiac. After seeing that ki-blast, are you sure you want to leave Rat and Shampoo alone for that long?"

"Good point."

"He was bitter-boy BEFORE the C-Ko incident, and THAT was bad enough. NOW when he gets mad, he REALLY blows up."

"You're sure he's never done that before?"

Kim shook her head. "Apart from that lousy sense of direction of his, he's always been a pretty standard guy. Well, ok. He's cuter than most, and he's awfully weird, but he's certainly no nuclear reactor." Ranma nodded. "Besides, I have lectures starting at eight, and they won't end till five in the afternoon, so this is our only chance to see 'er for at least the next day or so."

"Let's go!"

"Just a sec." Kim opened a drawer in her desk, and pulled out a brush, which she ran through her hair. She then put it back, smoothed her eyebrows with her forefingers, and straightened her jacket. "I'm still wearing Rat's clothes," she said. "Guess that's all right. At least they're tasteful."

"How will we get there? The C-Ko's not getting my car 'til late afternoon, and Rat took the motorcycle."

"Motomech."

"Whatever."

"We can walk. It's only ten blocks, or so."

"I'm not worried about Akane and me. We can float. Are you sure you're fine walking?"

"Yes."

"Let's leave, then." Ranma grinned.

As Kim was locking the door to the room, they were greeted by a shadowy figure coming down the Hall.

"Hi there, Kim!" said a cheery female voice.

"Oh, great," said Thompson. "It's Squirrel Girl."

"I don't like this..." mumbled Akane.

The newcomer stopped in front of the group. She was about five- foot nine, amazingly thin, and had skin as pale as typewriter paper. Dark rings surrounded her eyes, which were jet-black, and a white streak ran down the middle of her long brown hair. Besides the ubiquitous university jacket, the only thing she wore was a red-and-black skin-tight body-suit.

"I can't believe it!" said Ranma. "She looks just like a female Gosunkugi!"

"That's probably because I AM a female Gosunkugi," she said. "Hi. Gosunkugi Skeride. Pleased to meetcha. You must be Ranma! I've heard lots about you..." Skeride waved shyly, with a tight-lipped smile on her face.

Ranma blinked. Exactly HOW many people here could see him? He looked at Kim, but it was of no use. She looked just as puzzled as he did.

"Akane! Haven't seen YOU in a while! You never told me you knew Thompson!"

Akane was looking very troubled, but managed a nervous grin, and a small hand-wave. "Hi, Nutkin. Fancy meeting you here..."

Kim's eyes had grown to double their size when the girl-Gos had addressed Ranma. NOW they seemed ready to pop out of their sockets.

"Akane," she said, her face pointing in the wrong direction, "you never told me you knew Squirrel Girl!"

"Strange, that," said Skeride. "I met her through Childra. She used to come to my history lectures, but she dropped them a couple of weeks after I joined." She turned to Akane. "So, you gonna join again?"

"I don't think so..."

"Oh, well... You're missing out on some great stuff. The prof this term's wonderful." She looked at Ranma, blushing slightly. "Are YOU taking history?"

"Er... No..." he said. "Theoretical Physics."

Skeride's eyes lit up. "Really?" she asked excitedly.

"He'll be in my class," said Kim. "GREAT!! Can't wait to see you there!"

"See me there?"

"I'm in Kim's class. Double major. Theoretical Physics, and Exploratory History. Well... It's Archaeological Anthropology right now, but I hope to get into the other one EVENTUALLY..." Her eyes narrowed, as she looked first at Kim, then at Ranma.

"Are... Are you two thinking of... Ah... Going out?"

"What?? ME go out with that uncute gai-"

"YES!" interrupted Kim. "I... Ah... Made up the story about Ranma being my cousin. I just didn't want the other girls to... Um... Be jealous..."

"Oh, don't worry about it, Thompson," Skeride's grin spread from ear to ear. "I can spot your lies a mile off. Still, this IS the 21st century... No big deal if you're cousins." A wink. "Trust me. I know." Pause. "So... About you and Rat..."

"What about me and Rat?"

"You two aren't..."

"WHAT?"

"You're always with him, and you DID go on that trip with him, and he ALWAYS... Talks about you, so I thought-"

"THERE IS "NOTHING" BETWEEN ME AND HIBIKI REIRAKU!"

"Glad to hear it," she chimed. "You're sure about that?"

"Look, Skeride," said Kim, "I'd love to keep on chatting, but we have to go somewhere right now... We were just on our way out."

"Oh, that's all right. I have to keep looking for Reiraku, anyway."

"At ONE A.M.??"

Skeride shrugged. "I haven't sen... Heard from him in a while, so I thought I'd check to make sure he was all right. Do you know where he is right now?" All three shook their heads. "Oh, well. With his sense of direction, it'd probably take me DAYS to find him. Off to bed, then, I suppose... I've got a five AM lab to go to. G'night!"

"Good night, Nutkin!"

"Bye!"

"Nice meeting you!" said Ranma. After nodding an acknowledgement to the farewells, Skeride scurried down the hall, eventually disappearing down a staircase.

"What... Was THAT?" asked Ranma.

"THAT was big trouble," answered Kim. "It's Gosunkugi Skeride, brightest student in my physics class, and sickeningly modest about it. I had NO idea she could see spirits, though... And how the heck does she know Akane? Hm?"

Ranma turned to his late fiance. "Can y'explain all this?"

"Well... Skeride has a little problem... You see... She..." She took a deep breath. "Childra sees spirits like half-transparent things. Nutkin is a lot more powerful that way, though, so she can't tell the difference between the dead and the living unless she actually touches them to find out whether they're solid."

"Uh-oh. You mean..."

Akane nodded. "It gets worse. You remember how she said I dropped those lectures?" Ranma nodded. "That's because she has this little obsession with putting ghosts 'to rest'. If she ever found out I wasn't alive..."

"She can't do that! Can she?"

"I'm afraid so. She's known as the 'Killer of the Dead'. Think of what Hikaru would've been if his magic had actually worked."

"Now THERE'S a scary thought."

"What is it?" asked Kim. "Akane says that Gos-Girl there can't tell real people from stiffs unless she touches them."

"STIFFS?! STIFFS?!"

True to style, Ranma ignored Akane and kept on going. "Not only that, but she gets here kicks outta sendin' ghosts to the otherworld. Guess it's gonna be interesting to have classes with her..."

"If she sees you when no one else can..."

"But _I _can't be exorcised. Right?"

"I don't know! I'm a SCIENTIST, not a WITCH, for Pete's sake, and I'm not even Japanese! Heck, I didn't even BELIEVE in ghosts before all this began!"

"All the more reason to get to the Nekohanten pronto. If anyone can help us, it's Shampoo. She spent all that time studyin' magic an' spirits an' stuff. She must know SOME way we can protect ourselves..."

"Good point. Let's go!"

--

**The Kunou Foundation, Nerima Control Centre **

Perdita frowned at the monitor before her. Heat-sigs inside the room that Ranma had entered were minimal, just the usual appliances and climactic ducts. It seemed he'd left without her...

_Unless he's not a clone?_ Nabiki KNEW what wonders the KF could do with cybernetics. It was a definite possibility, and one that DID make her feel a lot more comfortable. Nonetheless-

"Computer, access front door security camera information for Kunou Hall, tonight, between twelve forty and one twenty A.M."

ACCESSED. INPUT QUERY.

"Did anyone leave the building?"

AFFIRMATIVE.

"Who?"

SEARCHING VISUAL DATABASE... SEARCH COMPLETE. SEARCH RESULTS: SAOTOME RANMA, GOSUNKUGI SKERIDE.

He'd left, then, late at night... _And with a Gos descendant? Curiouser and curiouser... _

"Did they leave together?"

NEGATIVE.

_Just a coincidence, then._ Or was it?

"Computer, estimated whereabouts of Gosunkugi Skeride."

IN MOTION. ESTIMATING DESTINATION PLEASE WAIT... CALCULATION COMPLETED. DESTINATION: HIBIKI MANSION

_Oh, what a tangled web we weave... _Perdita was willing to bet that there was yet another family with their finger in the Onocorp pie.

"Computer, cross-reference 'Gosunkugi' 'genetics' and 'cloning'.

ASSEMBLING LIST... LIST COMPLETE. 229374024 ITEMS FOUND MATCHING CRITERIA. PRINT/DISPLAY #?

"Ah... Let's leave it at that." It was all she needed to know.

_If the springe holds, the cock's mine,'_ she grinned, quoting the Shakespearean play from which Tanaro had lifted her new name. This was a time of political unrest, and any embarrassment to the Kunou Foundation, or to Onocorp, could prove fatal - AND her ticket out of her indenture.

She'd have to look at this 'Ranma' closely. Chances were he was going back to home base. A clone this good was either an Onocorp job or illegal... Maybe both? And if he wasn't quite a clone, he was certainly worth watching. If she set the Executioner on the scent of the two girls; the gaijin and the Gosunkugi...

"Hoisted by their own petard," she grinned.

SYNTAX ERROR. REPEAT QUERY.

"I wasn't talking to YOU," said Perdita icily. This 'Skeride' should be easy enough, but as for the other one... Deliberately boycotting the KF 'DataFind' programming in her head, Perdita flipped back a few screens, until she found the social security file she was looking for.

"Computer, give me the best estimate as to the current whereabouts of subject Thompson Kimberley."

PROBABLE LOCATION: ERROR

"What? Computer, explain."

ERROR: DIVIDE BY ZERO

"You're not making any sense. Last known location?"

KUNOU HALL, UNIVERSITY OF TOKYO PROBABILITY: 100 (POSITIVE VISUAL IDENTIFICATION).

"Where in Kunou Hall?"

SUBJECT SIGHTED AT LOBBY: FRONT ENTRANCE.

_All right... _"Last STABLE location?"

SEARCHING... SEARCH COMPLETE. ROOM A-323 KUNOU HALL.

_Bingo. Now, to see the connection..._ "That room belongs to..."

UNIVERSITY OF TOKYO HOLDINGS, INC.

"I meant, who rooms in it?"

THOMPSON, KIMBERLEY

"Interesting. Single room?"

AFFIRMATIVE.

"You're SURE Thompson didn't leave with Ranma?" She was going over the heat-sig records now, and that was the only option left open. Ranma's exit marked the only increase in temperature, and since it was a rather cool and rainy night, anyone else would have left a trace visible for miles...

_Wait a minute..._

Yes. It WAS a cool night... And Kunou Hall was notorious for its lack of amenities. A quick check confirmed her suspicions - there was little heating of most rooms. Which meant, of course, that anyone sensible would be wearing thermally retentive clothing,

_Which would cloak their heat-sigs, especially with those outdated climactic control sensors..._

PROBABILITY: 90 (DEDUCTION FOR NIGHT-TIME VISUALS)

_Touche. _The solution was binary. Either Miss Thompson had left with the clone, or she hadn't. Either way, she'd be found, be it by herself or Sable. The cyborg cracked her knuckles and started typing a small intra- office memo. She chided herself for not having thought of it before, but at least it wasn't a fatal error... One tended to forget such things as 'heat' and 'cold' when one's body temperature was electronically regulated to a perfect level. She clicked the send button.

CONFIRM PRIORITY 1 MESSAGE STATUS: RE: INVESTIGATION REQUESTED - U OF TOKYO / ILLEGAL CLONING LINK?

TO: SE-1B-Y-L, HEAD EXECUTIONER, NERIMA DISTRICT

"Confirmed."

PRIORITY 1 MESSAGE SENT.

Now that THAT was done...

"Computer, calculate current whereabouts of subject Saotome Ranma."

SUBJECT IS IN GRID 180.

_Grid 180?_ Perdita frowned. That sounded... Familiar. She plugged the co-ordinates into the Finder, and grinned. If the clone wanted to impersonate Ranma, he was off to a good start.

"Computer, program hover-car for the Nekohanten, and bring it to the main gate. I'm going to join him."

PROGRAMMING COMPLETE.

--

**The Nekohanten **

The Nekohanten's doorbell woke Shampoo from her slumber.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she said to no one in particular, as she rose from her bed. Groggily, she unlocked the front door and slid the doors open. The sight waiting for her brought her to full consciousness. "Ranma! You come for Shampoo!"

"Uh... Yeah... Hi there, Shampoo." said a soaked-to-the-bone Saotome. "Listen you think I could... Uh... Go inside? It's rainin' kinda hard, and..."

"O! Shampoo so sorry!" She stepped aside and let Ranma into the restaurant. Along with someone else...

_He's brought the nice girl, too. What about..._

"Ranma, Childra lie, yes?"

"What?"

"Akane still dead. She no ghost. Right?"

"Actually, she's right here," said Kim. "But only another spirit can see her."

"Big mouth!" said Ranma. Shampoo shook her head. She should have known that Jansen wasn't the type to lie. Still... It didn't make her feel any better to have THAT bit of history brought back. Having a competitor for Ranma's heart who could change her appearance at will...

_She WILL be put to rest._ The Amazon's eyes narrowed. _Just wait until I get my hands on the right herbs..._

"Is OK," she lied.

"Shampoo, I'm..." Ranma paused. "Huh? It... It is??"

Shampoo nodded. "Shampoo grow up now. No fight with Akane anymore." At least, not until she found the right weapons. No use trying to hit a spirit with bonbori, especially when you couldn't see it.

_Better add ghost-sight potion to the list,_ she thought. During all her time in Jusenkyo, she'd always thought that when the time came she'd be alone; she'd be the only one for her groom. Things always turned out differently than planned, however, and now there was the Church of Kodachi, and the violent demoness...

"I'm glad to hear that. REAL glad." Kim inspected the interior of the restaurant.

"Don't seem to be any signs of structural damage. Everything LOOKS okay..."

"What nice girl talk about?"

"Oh, we was just wonderin' how you an' Rat would get along, bein' cooped up for all these hours in the same buildin', an' all..." said Ranma. "Where IS he, anyway?"

Shampoo blinked. It HAD been awfully quiet lately. "Shampoo leave Childra and Rat-bat in next room. Ranma wait here, yes? Shampoo go check." "Take your time."

--

**Exploratory History Building, University of Tokyo **

A very worried Hibiki Zannen took the first opportunity that came to excuse herself from the emergency staff meeting and go to the ladies' room. Once in, she checked it was empty (not that it wouldn't be, this late at night), locked the door with her master key and pulled a small black card from her pocket. A tap on its side and it split, revealing a speaker, and a button, which the woman pressed.

'Zannen, is that you?' came the voice from the other end of the communicator.

"Who else would be contacting you this way?"

'The KF?'

"Very funny."

'Not funny at all. Actually, we-'

"Tei, have you gone out of your mind?!"

'What?'

"I've TOLD you never to use the Mirror without consulting me!"  
'I don't understand...'

"The Mirror! You forgot to tell me you were going to use it, so EH picked it up on their scans, and now the department is crawling over me with questions that I CAN'T ANSWER! Do you realise how-"

'We haven't used the Mirror!'

"Don't give me that."

'Zannen, it's in the room with me, and it's been there for two weeks, at LEAST.'

"Then do you care to explain the sudden tachyon flux in grid 180?"

'Grid 180?'

"I'm glad your hearing hasn't decayed with age. Yes. The tachyon flux. Complete with residual visual energy in the 3 eV range. Sound familiar?"

'I'm telling you, we haven't-' A pause. 'Grid 180, you said?'

"That's right."

'I... Hope I'm wrong, but-'

"But what?"

'Tendo headed towards there immediately after her shift - one of our operatives caught the programming for the hover-car. That's what I was trying to tell you.'

"How long ago was that?"

'About five minutes.'

"Deity..."

'Precisely. If the Kunou Foundation has discovered our little secret...'

"Are you sure it's still a secret?" 'I'm sorry?' "Your mirror. Is it real, or has it been switched with a replica?"

A banging on the door. "Zannen, are you all right?" One of her subordinates was calling to her from outside. Chikusho. Too much longer, and they'd suspect something was up.

"Yes! Out in a minute!" She whispered at the card, "Sorry about that... Is the mirror yours?"

'Unless you know of any others that have a tendency to glow.'

"Thankfully, the KF's about as subtle as a sledgehammer, so even if they HAVE figured it out, there's no way they'll be able to use it."

'I'm not worried about the KF.'

"THAT'S a first."

'I'm worried about Perdita. She is the mistress of subtlety, and much as I hate to say it, if its suits her purposes...' Silence. 'Can you send your trouble-shooter?'

"Childra? I suppose so... Where... Where is it? I assume you have a more precise fix than we do."

'The Nekohanten Restaurant.'

"The Nekoha- Tei! Why on Earth don't you just call up Antacid?"

'This matter's too important to be trusted to men.'

Zannen grinned. "Good point. I'll check on Childra. Over and out."

--

**University of Tokyo Commerce Building, Basement **

Tei Buru sat at her desk, looking at her reflection in a mirror - in THE Mirror. So many times he'd thanked the Fate that had placed it in her hands, that had allowed her and her... Associates to help this world gone insane in what little way they could... She'd grown to associate blue with goodness, with purity... Every time she saw the sparks around the frame, the crackling semi-electricity, she'd feel her goal intensified, she'd feel her work justified, and hope of fulfilment would grow within her. But now... Now there seemed to be something BEYOND the blue. A shadow of sorts, just out of sight, but nonetheless affecting her perception. The image looking back at her was obviously not at ease. Now that it seemed the Kunou foundation had acquired their OWN version of the artefact.

She didn't want to think of it, but it all made sense. Perdita, the high-energy research in Shirotori some years back... She was a fool for not having seen it coming. And it HAD come, there was no doubt of that, if half of what Zannen had told her was true. What would THEY do with the Power? Some years ago, she would have said, 'not much'. After all, the altering of time is a delicate thing, and trying to make too strong a change will result in nothing but a useless temporal split.

But NOW... NOW they had created their own perfect controller - a cybernetic body capable of split-hair reactions, a soul of subtlety and most of all - an electronic mind capable of making millions of calculations, analysing billions of possible outcomes, and... And of being programmed. That's what Perdita's 'job' was for - nothing but training for a larger goal, towards which she'd been mobilised this night.

Tei reached for the scotch, ignoring the Mirror's pulsing ring of cerulean flame. As she was about to bring the first shot to her lips, a black card on her desk beeped. She glared at it momentarily, then resumed her imbibing. The card beeped again. She gave up, set down the drink with a sigh, and tapped the communicator.

"Tei here. What is it, Zannen?"

'Childra's gone. I can't find her anywhere.'

"What do you MEAN, you can't find her anywhere? I thought she had a pager!"

'She must have turned it off.'

"Deity... Just what we needed."

'I can go myself, if you like. I can be there in ab-'

"No."

'No?'

"What excuse would you give? Listen, Zannen, it's PERDITA we're dealing with. You've heard me speak of her?"

'It's kind of hard not to.'

"Then you know how insightful she is. What excuse would you give her for appearing?"

'Well... It's a restaurant. I was hungry?'

"It's past midnight, and they close at eleven. Try again."

'I AM the head of EH, Tei. What could be more natural than the Department investigating a tach burst?'

"Considering it's the KF, you should count yourself fortunate they haven't thought of that yet. If they realise you're on to them, EH will be shut down faster than you can say 'search warrant'. No, Zannen, it's too risky for you to go. Childra might have pulled it off, with her... Past experience, but you..."

'I understand, but is there really another option?'

Tei took a deep breath. She was very unwilling to do this; to paraphrase the entrepreneur, a hand played was a hand lost - one should always keep one's aces hidden until the last moment... However, she was running short of moments.

"There is. I have... Someone I can send out."

'Who?' "You'll find out soon enough. Join me in the commerce basement - We can view the transmissions here."

'Understood. I'll be there in five minutes.'

The communicator went silent, and Tei sank back into her leather chair, touching the tips of her fingers together and looking at the ceiling, lost in thought. The mirror's flame intensified, then subsided into a dull glow.

--

**Nekohanten **

Understanding Shampoo's broken Japanese was a difficult task, at the best of times. When she was puzzled, flustered, and waving her arms about, it was nearly impossible.

"What did you say?" asked Ranma.

"Childra and Rat. They not here! Shampoo leave them in room, they say they wait for Ranma. They not there!"

"Childra and Ratiko are GONE?" Shampoo nodded. "I wouldn't worry too much."

"Why on Earth not?!" Ranma asked.

"Rat's a Hibiki, right?"

"Oh."

"He probably went looking for the toilet and ended up in Polynesia."

"What about Childra?" asked Shampoo.

"Maybe he... um... dragged her with him?" Ranma volunteered.

Kim smirked. "Knowing Jansen, it's more likely that SHE dragged HIM off somewhere. Like the University's Deep Forest Preserve."

"Why would she do thing like that? It late." Shampoo was puzzled. She couldn't see any reason why anyone would want to take a walk in the forest at one in the morning during the winter, especially when they were waiting for someone.

"'Nice Girl' happens to be 'Miss Mega-Hentai'" explained Kim. "She's MY friend, too, but she has a nasty habit of bedding anything with a testosterone/estrogen ratio greater than one."

"Huh?" asked Ranma and Shampoo together.

"She likes her men."

"Oh."

"AND her women," added Akane. Shampoo blinked as Ranma visibly blushed.

"And we WERE a bit late, so..." Before Thompson could finish, a red hover-car landed in front of the restaurant.

_Who the hell is THAT?_ wondered Shampoo. "Restaurant closed. Go away," shouted the Amazon.

In reply, the 'car's door opened, and a black-decked figure stepped out and walked up the front steps, not waiting for acknowledgment to open the main door. She was about Kim's height, with a thin build, and had her dark brown hair done up in a bun. She looked once at Ranma, and smiled.

"I'm so glad," the newcomer said, "to finally meet you. You don't know how much I've been looking forward to this."

"Who are you?" asked Ranma.

--

**Just outside the Nekohanten **

_A very good question, Mr. Saotome._ The girl tightened her grip around the tree and adjusted the zoom on her recorder, running her tongue habitually over her protruding canines. She took a glance at her charge- meter. Still a good hour's use left in the machine. More than enough. Her superiors should be... Pleased... With the information.

--

**Nekohanten **

Akane was shook her head rapidly, then pressed her hands against her cheeks.

"This CAN'T be happening," she said. "This REALLY can't be happening."

"What IS it?" asked Kim. "Do you know her?"

"I would HOPE so. She's my sister."

"WHAT?"

"Or, she WAS. She was killed in an explosion a long time ago."

"Your family just never says 'DIE', does it?"

"Ha ha."

"So, why's SHE a ghost? Did she also kill herself?"

"That's just it. She's not a ghost. We share a memorial; if she'd been a ghost, I would've seen her."

"Oh, dear. Then what..." "I don't know."

"Ranma doesn't look like he recognises her."

"He wouldn't... She died twenty years after he did. Sis grew up quite a bit in that time..."

"Should I tell him?"

"Do it. Her name's Nabiki. Tendo Nabiki."

--

**University of Tokyo Commerce Building - Basement**

Zannen took a key out of her pocket, slipped it into the lock before her, and opened the door. It was a full ten seconds before the grey- haired Tei acknowledged her entrance.

"Take a seat, Zannen," said she, swivelling her own chair to face her. "Drink?"

"You know I don't."

"You might, after tonight."

The Hibiki scowled, but said nothing. She was quite right. A lot of things might change after tonight. If the KF had done what they feared they'd done...

"There's always the chance it was someone else," said the other woman. Tei had an unsettling habit of peeking into one's mind, and answering unvoiced thoughts.

"Like who? Only a handful of organisations could have access to the magic or the technology necessary for this."

"Someone we don't know about?"

Zannen took a seat on the couch, elbows on knees and hands clasped before her as a chin-rest. Her mouth opened several times for speech, but closed again just as quickly, as each thought was rejected in turn. There were just so many variables, so many unknowns... And the things that WERE known were things whose implications she didn't want to think about. In time, she gave up, sat silently, looking at the gently-flickering Mirror. Tei kept her aquamarine eyes on the Hibiki, all the while never shifting her position by a millimetre.

"What can we do?" asked Zannen softly.

"Nothing more than we've done already, I'm afraid, at least for the moment."

"We can't stop them."

"Not unless you've found a more effective method of time travel. Unless your readings are completely off, the harm's already been done, my dear. All we can do-"

"All we can do is mend."

"So you HAVE learned something from us, after all!"

"I'm just repeating it because I'm finding it difficult to think on my own, right now. You haven't converted me YET, Buru." A pause. "Not completely."

"Ah. Back to business, then."

"Isn't it always, with you?"

Tei smiled, but otherwise ignored the comment. "My operative has been sent out, and is already getting into position. We should start receiving her transmissions momentarily."

"Who did you say this operative was, again?"

Buru twitched slightly, and took a deep breath.

"That's... A bit of a long story."

--

**Just outside the Nekohanten**

The girl looked away from the recorder's eyepiece briefly to brush away a brown lock of hair that'd been blown before her eyes, and noticed the hover-car.

_Kunou Foundation markings? So... Either she's here on business, or wants to make it look like she is. _She checked her watch. It was past Perdita's shift for this day of the week.

_Curiouser and curiouser, _she smirked._ 'If I make not this cheat bring out another, let me be unroll'd, and my name put in the book of virtue!'_

--

**Nekohanten **

Shampoo stared at the newcomer. The same hair, the same general features, but it couldn't be! She'd died... Hadn't she? All that fuss Mousse had told her about... With Ryouga, and the explosions...

"Ranma?"

"Huh?"

"Akane wants to tell you something. That person there? It's..."

"NABIKI!!" Shampoo hissed.

"Not anymore," said the woman. "It's Perdita now."

"WHAT?" asked Ranma. "Don't tell me YOU'VE been brought back to life, as well!"

"As well?" Perdita raised an eyebrow.

"What you do here? You DEAD!"

"And you should be. Isn't a hundred and twenty a bit old to be trying to get a husband? And to take the clone once the original's been killed... My, my... Quite the sick-o YOU'VE turned out to be, Shampoo."

"CLONE?" Ranma looked at Shampoo, shock in his face. Her groom didn't actually BELIEVE that, did he? Not after all the work she'd put into the curse modification...

"Ranma NOT a clone! Ranma REAL!"

"Sorry to disappoint you," said Nabiki, "but Ranma died. About a century ago. I was at his cremation."

_Cremation? Boy, will she be surprised if she ever bumps into the Church of Kodachi, _thought Ranma.

"Shampoo bring him back to life!"

"You've gotten better at jigsaw puzzles, if you were able to piece back dust into a man. But... I don't think you have. There's a little something called 'Project R', and I've a feeling that this clone here," she pointed at Ranma, "has a great deal to do with it."

"Look, lady. I don't know WHO you are, but if Shampoo says you're Nabiki, I'll take her word for it for now. I'm NOT a clone, and I've never HEARD of this 'Project R'."

"Oh, no? Then perhaps it's just a coincidence that both the Onos and the Hibikis are EXTREMELY interested in the details, you've been consorting with a Gosunkugi-"

"CONSORTING?? CONSORTING??" Akane's voice verged on outrage, anger having for the moment taken over from shock and grief.

"-and," concluded Perdita, "that they've been tapping information about you DIRECTLY to themselves?"

"So THAT'S who was draining the C-Ko security info!" said Kim. "But that means that THIS person's a KF agent. Be careful, Ranma. She's DANGEROUS."

"She's my SISTER!" pleaded Akane. "Nabiki! LOOK at me! It's RANMA! Don't you see?"

"I'm not so sure about that," Ranma answered her.

"What?"

"If you're so sure I'm a clone, just 'cause I died a long time ago, how can we be sure that YOU'RE not one, as well? I mean, you've ALSO been dust for a while, right?"

Perdita smiled. "As a matter of fact, I AM one. A certain group was kind enough to put me back together. My organs are cloned, most of my limbs are cybernetic, but all of my brain is my own." She smiled. A slight exaggeration, but no need to let them know that.

"An' I'm supposed to give INFORMATION to a freak like YOU? NO WAY!"

"You don't have a choice, clone-boy. If you won't give me what I want, I'll drag it out of you with the proper equipment. Why don't you just come peacefully?"

"Ranma stay here!" said Shampoo.

"Only if he co-operates, my geriatric Amazon. Otherwise, I'm afraid he'll have to accompany me to the Executioner's office."

"Now, wait a minute!" Shampoo narrowed her eyes and crouched into a combat stance.

"Shampoo, you really don't need to..."

Too late. The Amazon slipped into full fighter mode and rushed at Perdita, performing a new attack she'd taught herself - a variation on the 'flying chestnut fists' which was not as fast, but twice as powerful.

Nabiki blocked.

Shampoo didn't know how she did it, but every one of her blows was precisely countered. Not a single one of the hundreds she attempted was able to connect.

"Give it up," said the self-proclaimed cyborg. "You're eighty years too late to defeat me." Again, that unnerving smile.

That awful grin made Shampoo want to bash her teeth in. And she would have, too, if she'd been able to hit. Tired from a full minute of continuous performance of the special attack, Shampoo fell into a crouch, and breathed heavily. Maybe Nabiki was right. If she couldn't hit, even with THAT strike, maybe she WAS getting too old.

The self-proclaimed cyborg stepped forward slowly.

"It was a mistake to lay your hands on me, Shampoo." One leg in front of the other, methodically, mechanically... "Normally I can't attack, but since you initiated combat..."

Almost as if fighting some invisible drag, she pressed onwards, while the Amazon merely narrowed her eyes and tensed her muscles.

"I am being threatened by your actions, Shampoo. My existence is at stake." Perdita raised her arm and prepared to strike-

When she was herself struck down. Every circuit in her seemed to burst at the same time, paralysing her with agonising pain. Her limbs twitched violently, sending her into a caricature of a waltz, while the others watched. She saw them with only partly-functioning eyes, that flipped randomly through the spectra - first the warm tones of infra-red, then the cold of UV scans, on to their bones from the beta-scan, and more.

But in all these modes, she was puzzled, for though they were surprised, they seemed... They seemed to have expected this... Slowly, the bolts of pain began to fuse and expand, until they covered her whole anatomy, supplanting all other sensory information. Her vision, too, grew blurred, only to focus again, but...

_Within?_ She turned her head, trying to see... And she saw, but not what was outside, not what was REAL... Images floated past her, from her nightmares... Kasumi, Akane, the Doctor, and Belladonna... Then images... Images that couldn't be, twisted dreams that saw her guiltless, but worse than that, that cursed her to a futile death, and to a meaningless, if blameless life-after. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the tempting illusions, but it only made it worse. It'd be so easy, it made such sense... But... They changed. From her past, to the present. The Thompson girl, and the Gosunkugi. They looked at her, the gaijin angrily and the pale one with... With Evil?

_What... But I don't... What's happening to me?_ The girl with a white stripe through her hair pulled out a golden dagger, and raised it high before sending it crashing down-

To be caught by Ranma. Thompson's image flickered, turning to Saotome's, and back, furiously, violently, until she couldn't tell which one she was looking at... And then there was Akane, in the dress she'd died in... Wet, just dredged from the river, and beckoning... Beckoning her to join her, teasing her, gesturing towards the Ranma half before her... Nabiki Tendo raised her arm to touch her sister's hand...

"PERDITA!!" At the sound of her new name, there was a flash, and with it went the pain, the memories - and the visions. The cyborg dropped to her knees and breathed heavily, exhausted. After a few seconds, she looked up.

"Pai? What are YOU doing here?"

"I... I was just here to visit uncle Antacid..."

"UNCLE Antacid?"

"He works here, and I thought I'd... Wait. Aren't YOU the one who should be explaining? You were about to attack aunt Shampoo!"

"AUNT Shampoo? Listen, kiddo, I might buy the uncle Antacid (boy, the Joketsuzoku must be desperate for names), but I doubt he's married to that... To that..."

She pointed at Shampoo, but her voice trailed off as she noticed she and Ranma staring at her. Clearing her throat, she stood up and smoothed her clothes.

"I just CALL them aunt and uncle; it's really just a title of affection."

"Pai! You know crazy maniac woman?" Shampoo seemed indignant. Ranma seemed confused.

"I work with her, at the- " Perdita glared at her. "I work with her."

"Care to tell me exactly why you came to the Nekohanten at one in the morning?" Perdita said, suspicion in her voice.

"You're not the only one who works odd hours, and I have to visit family when I can. Care to tell me the same, 'Dita?"

Perdita grunted. "I was... Hungry for ramen."

"Uh-huh. Whatever. Look, what do you say we forget about all this and head back to the K-" Another glare. "To work?" She grinned. "I'm sure Auntie can make us some ramen to take back. Right?"

Shampoo nodded in silence, but her eyes seemed less than amused.

--

University of Tokyo Commerce Building - Basement

'I was... Hungry for ramen.'

'Uh-huh. Whatever. Look, what do you say we forget about this and head back to the K- ... To work? I'm sure Auntie can make us some ramen to take back. Right?'

"That's enough for me Tei," said Zannen, a broad smile across her face. "Set the rest on record and I'll watch it in the morning."

"It IS the morning."

"The afternoon, then. I need my beauty sleep."

"Very well." Tei tapped a few buttons and the view-screen went dark. "I must admit," she said, "that it's quite a relief Perdita seems to know nothing about the jump."

"A BIG relief. I'm afraid I'm not all that up on my genetics, though. Any ideas about that clone?"

"Now that I know Shampoo is involved, it shouldn't be too difficult to obtain the information we need." Buru placed her elbows on her desk and cradled her chin in her hands. "Something bothering you?"

"A lot of things."

"Like what? We don't know who or what jumped, true, but considering it's the Nekohanten, it's probably some old Chinese artefact that caused it, and if it's magical, there shouldn't be too much trouble correcting the..."

"That's not what I'm talking about."

"What, then?"

"It's... Nothing, really... Just... I'll be fine. I just need to be alone."

"If you say so." Zannen got off the couch and walked to the door. "If you need me, you know where to find me. I'm always there, if you want someone to talk to."

"Thank-you, Zannen." "And... I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier... I... Should have trusted you more than that."

Buru waved the apology away. "You did what you had to. It certainly LOOKED like the Mirror."

The Hibiki nodded. "I'll send Childra to investigate later," she said, then stepped through the door, and tapped it shut lightly.

Tei sat in the darkness for a few minutes, unmoving. There was a lot to consider, a lot to analyse and work on. She didn't want to be hasty, but now that she KNEW... She'd suspected, of course, and feared it, but... Here was testimony from so many sources, so many UNDENIABLE sources... Tendo Perdita was Tendo Nabiki. Tendo Nabiki was Tendo Perdita. Her fears, her hopes had both come to life, and in one and the same body. It was difficult to deal with, but she'd try. She'd try... With a sigh, she turned on her desktop computer and began to scan the databases. A new game was beginning, and she had to plan her strategy.

--

After making sure the hover-car was out of visual range - out of ENHANCED visual range - the girl hopped down from her branch and dusted herself off, wishing she'd worn something a bit more substantial than her synthetic black body-suit to protect her from the cold.

Oh, well. Couldn't be helped; when stealth was required, one had to make do.

In any case, the information she had obtained was more than worth the trouble. If nothing else, there seemed to be some way of disabling the Onocorp cyborgs, or some fatal flaw in their programming. That had been a grotesque spectacle to watch, but a fruitful one.

With a smile on her face, she started back uptown, singing an old tune in a sweet alto voice:

"But shall I go mourn for that, my dear?

The pale moon shines by night;

And when I wander here and there,

I then do most go right.

If tinkers may have leave to live

And bear the sow-skin budget,

Then my account I well may give

And in the stocks avouch it."

END


	31. Night Terrors

**NIGHT TERRORS **

A Ranma 2096 side-story by Jason L. 'Jai-kun' Langlois

--

R2096 characters and situations used with permission. Takahashi's aren't.

--

"You- you don't belong here." Akane winced at the words, words she had feared since she had met the Gos descendant.

"Skeride, let me-" Skeride's face twisted in sadness and anger.

"NO!" She screamed it out of despair more than anything. "No, Tendo, you've tricked me long enough! You DON'T belong here!!" In a fluid motion borne from much practice, she pulled her P'ur-bu from it's hidden sheath. Tears began to well in her eyes. "I trusted you, Akane. I believed you were of the living. I thought of you as my friend!"

The dagger flowed in Skeride's hand, changing positions as skilfully as any martial artist may have caused it to. With a scream of rage and a fluid motion, Skeride lunged, swiping the blade across Akane's belly. Only her training saved her. As the living girl lunged, Akane jumped back. Still, she felt the barest of scratches, and chanced a look down. He dress was slit neatly, horizontally along her torso. A light green line of ki was only now dissipating across the bare portion of her stomach.

"Skeride. Please, don't do this..." Akane pleaded, not wanting to face this confrontation. If only she had not tried to comfort the living girl... She had been walking, affording Ranma his sleep, and leaving Kim carefully gripping a pencil in her ghostly fingers. Akane giggled, remembering Kim's question before she left.

"He wouldn't wake up if I switched back, would he?" In Akane's remembrance of his first curse, she had to answer 'No.'

She was walking in the park when she heard a sob. It sounded familiar, but she attributed it to her own experience with tears. She had shed many after Ranma died. Both living, and dead. She stepped into the clearing, her curiosity having gotten the best of her. She recognised the rising tear-streaked face of the girl too late.

"Oh, Rei- Akane!" Akane was trying to back away, but was caught by the girl's stricken voice. Despite all the warnings blaring in her mind, she stepped once toward her.

"Are you all right, Skeride?" Skeride looked away.

"I- I'm f-f-fine, Akane." Her trembling lip told another story. Akane again ignored her instincts. She stepped closer, and spoke soothingly,

"Do you want to talk about it?" For a moment she thought Skeride was going to decline. But then tears welled up in her eyes, and she began sobbing into her hands.

"I- l-love a... person... and he d-doesn't love me!" Akane's heart went out to the girl. She remembered those feelings too well. She had spent many a night feeling the same way about Ranma. She made the one mistake she had avoided all this time. Her hand went out and touched Skeride's shoulder. Skeride jumped as if jolted with 10,000 volts. She looked at Akane, her expression a mixture of awe, understanding, and... disappointment. Then she said the words Akane had been dreading since she realised her mistake...

"YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE!" The scream tore Akane from her painful memory and forced her concentration on the reluctant battle she was fighting.

"Skeride, please, calm down!" Skeride's face was a mass of fury, her hair blowing in the building wind.

"Calm down? One of the people I thought of as friend, who I poured my very soul out to, is unliving, and you want me to _calm down_?" The dagger's arc sliced ribbons between them. "Tendo Akane, you do _not_ belong! You have made a mockery of me AND my quest! Prepare to end, spirit!"

--

C'mon, Kim, we gotta find her!" Ranma floated impatiently beside a grumpy Kim Thompson.

"Why in the world did you have to wake up anyways, jock?" Ranma floated toward her.

"I toldja it didn't have to be _that _hot, tomboy. You'd wake up too, if you'd nearly been boiled alive."

Kim looked down at her red arm. She had forgotten for the umpteenth time that they would switch places when the water hit .

"But why do we have to look for your fiancee, anyway?" Ranma looked impatient, following his new-found senses. His night with Akane, when they had consummated their engagement, left him with a sense for her that had rivalled his awareness as a martial artist. He could now feel her when she was near, even when he was flesh. He could even feel a touch of her when she was away, but only as a ghost. Usually, the feeling felt warm as the loving emotion brushed him, like a kiss, or hot when he (still, after all these years) angered her. Right now it felt cold with fear, so strong it was twisting _his_ stomach.

"Akane's in trouble." He said it with such certainty that Kim felt no more compunction to argue. As they neared the park, they could here the sounds of a woman... fighting. Ranma's face went pale as he felt Akane's emotions. "She's close."

"You're only making this harder on yourself, spirit!" As they broke through the clearing, Kim saw Skeride wielding a wickedly sharp looking dagger in her right hand. Ranma's gasp told her Akane was there as well.

"Skeride, don't!" Ranma was already running toward them. He jumped into the dagger's path, arms outspread, as it crashed toward Akane. Lightning flashed, and it began to rain, heavily. Skeride blinked, having barely stopped the knife's descent when she saw the blur in her field of vision before the lightning blinded her. She blinked twice as Kim Thompson stood before her, eyes shut, arms outstretched before Akane, who had been knocked backwards by one of Skeride's swipes. Her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

"Kim, get out of my way." Kim opened her eyes, looked briefly surprised, then shakily strengthened her stance.

"Skeride... C'mon, think things through." Her plan was dangerous, she knew, but she took the chance anyway. "_I_ saw Akane, saw that you were going to hurt her. As far as you know, I can't see ghosts, can I?"

Skeride blinked. It made sense. And this hunt was not as... fulfilling as her others. But something wasn't quite right here.

"Y- you saw her?" Kim looked behind her. Akane's eyes were wide, her hair stringing down in her face from the rain. She was breathing hard, looking as frightened as a rabbit in... wait. Her hair was wet? As Kim began to put it together, so did Akane and Skeride. Akane, having one hundred years' experience as a ghost, as well as advice from Childra, almost automatically changed her hair to gradually get wet. Kim didn't have that experience or advice. Skeride reached out a hand and touched Kim's shoulder.

"NO!" Her anger and shock threatened to engulf her, and violet chi raged from her body. "Not _you_! I cannot... I _will _not... lose Reiraku to a spirit!" Her knife flowed back ,and with a piercing screech, began it's deadly path to Kim's heart. A path interrupted by a strong hand on her tiny wrist.

"I don't think so." Skeride struggled against Ranma's strong grip.

"Let me _go_! They don't belong!" Her screeches hit Ranma's ears unheeded. He felt Akane's relief, and tried to reach out for her with his own feelings.

_It's OK, now, Akane._

Perhaps it was Ranma's attempt to relax Akane, causing him to relax his grip. Perhaps it was Skeride's tiny wrists, or her frantic struggles. Perhaps it was merely fate. Whatever the reason, Skeride's had broke Ranma's grip and swung wildly behind her.

A scream caught in Akane's throat as Kim's was torn wide open. Kim looked at Ranma, dumbfounded, and her eyes widened as she faded from existence. Akane looked to Ranma, and was met with the most horrible sight she could imagine. Ranma was on his knees, clutching his gushing throat.

He collapsed in a pool of blood, his eyes wide in a look of horrified shock. The memories of one hundred years ago played themselves back. Akane knelt, weeping next to her Ranma, her iinazuke. As he breathed his last, she slowly lifted his head to her lap.

"Ranma... no, please, don't leave me alone again..." Ranma's hand reached toward her ki-wet face. It fell limp as his dying breath gurgled from his wound. Tendo Akane looked toward the darkened heavens, and screamed her loss to the clouds.

--

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

Akane bolted upright from her position on the floor. A split second later, a firm hand touched her shoulder. She screamed again.

"Akane!" She turned, shaking, and met the eyes of...

_Ranma!_ Her trembling hand slowly made its way to his worried face. She burst into joyful tears when it connected.

"Oh, Ranma!" Her sobs became more frantic, and she began to stroke Ranma's face in earnest, as if to convince herself he was real. Ranma, perplexed, could only hold her gently until her sobs subsided.

**FIN**


	32. Night Terrors II

The phone rang on the desk. After a few moments, the man behind it grew tired of ignoring it, and picked up the receiver.

"Miller." He listened briefly to the person on the other end, then sighed and began to make his report.

Elsewhere...

_**Excellent. Everything is proceeding as planned. **_

_**You two still insist on going through this mad course of action? **_

_**If you don't like it, I'm sure Miller would be more than happy to take your place, Hitotsu. **_

_**I seriously doubt it, Mittsuko. He's one of ours. **_

_**Excuse me? Can we please get back to the plan? **_

_**Yes, let's. What did Miller report, Futatsu? **_

_**The Wanderer has been warned, by our Envoy herself. She has begun her attempts to locate Sable. **_

_**How so? **_

_**She is currently trying to locate Childra Jansen in order to see exactly how much of an effect their encounter had on him. **_

_**And what of the Assassin? **_

_**Calm yourself, Hitotsu. After Futatsu and I are through with her, Skeride will be EXTREMELY leery of approaching our Envoy... **_

--

**NIGHT TERRORS II **

--

Yet another offering from the Anything-Goes School of Indiscriminate Fanfic Writing -

Written by Erin Mills

Edited by 4cw6

Ranma 2096 characters used with permission.

--

"To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream."

-William Shakespeare 'Hamlet', Act III Scene 1

--

Skeride collapsed on her bed, exhausted. Who would've guessed the new 20th Century History professor would assign such extensive reading on her first day in class? And she seemed so...well...cold.

Already there were rumours flying about on campus about how Ninomiya-sensei despised the text the University provided, calling it 'romanticised bullshit.' It was almost, some said, as if she had lived through the 20th century, knew exactly what was incorrect in the text and hated the researchers for it.

Skeride didn't mind. The prof seemed nice enough, if a little vehement about how getting the facts of history was one of the most important things a researcher needed to do. And anyone who cared that much about history clearly cared about the subject, so she couldn't be blamed for wanting her students to get the truth.

Regardless, Skeride hoped that the lengthy readings wouldn't be a regular feature of the course. She yawned. Three hundred pages in two days was a lot of information to digest. Coupled with her regular rounds of Tokyo, she was looking forward to a good night's rest.

As she prepared for bed, an interesting thought struck her. When she had first seen Ninomiya Hinako, there was a familiarity about her that had plagued the Gosunkugi through the class. The feelings had vanished when she left class, so she'd given them no further thought, but-

Skeride thought about the professor. Ninomiya-sensei was in her mid-thirties. She had long brown hair that came to her waist. She typically dressed in black slacks, a black button-down blouse and a red sports-jacket. Around her throat she wore a delicate white scarf, and the entire ensemble was topped off by a pair of round, purple-tinted spectacles.

She spoke very eloquently, but there was something of a accent in her tone, perhaps just a hint of the dialect used in Kansai. Another puzzling thing was the way she appeared to vanish in the throng of people in the hallway of the building just after class. Several other students had reported witnessing this same phenomena. If it weren't for the fact that the other students could see her, Skeride could've sworn that the new instructor was a ghost.

She climbed into bed, laughing at herself for such a silly thought. Of course the new instructor was alive. No ghost had that much power. She pulled the covers over herself and was soon in a deep sleep...

_**Now. **_

Skeride opened her eyes. She was back in the old Nerima Graveyard - the same one she had exorcised the mysterious spatula-wielding Hibiki at nearly three years earlier. She stood up and looked down to find herself dressed in her hunting clothes - the red and black body-suit and her school jacket. However, as she noticed when she looked down, her p'ur-bu was missing. This disturbed her. She felt naked without her knife at her side when she went on a hunt. Granted, she still had the bubble to fall back on, but it was comforting to know she had a backup if necessary.

She began wandering through the graveyard, looking for the gate, but it seemed that no matter where she turned all she saw were rows upon rows of granite blocks. She briefly wondered if this was how Reiraku felt whenever he tried to find his way somewhere. Figuring that she would be bound to find the graveyard's boundary sooner or later, she set off in a random direction.

After a few minutes it became clear that she she'd gone the wrong way. The only thing in this part of the yard was a lone marker overgrown with weeds and vines. And yet, it seemed familiar, like she had seen it before. Skeride surveyed the landscape. Yes, she had seen this area before. There was the crypt she had cornered Tekii in (She'd finally obliviated him last year. Ah, sweet revenge.). Using that as a reference point, she stood on the steps of the crypt and looked around.

_Now, if I was standing here, then the gravestone over there would have been..._ Cold dread ran through her veins like ice. _...the grave where the Hibiki came from. But it was destroyed! _

As she studied the stone for a moment, a new feeling emerged.

_I wonder if the name is readable..._

Skeride approached the marker, with the excitement of three years of curiosity about to be relieved. She had always wondered which Hibiki it was that she had vanquished, despite the fact that she still felt guilty about exorcising one of Reiraku's ancestors. She knelt down next to the stone and began to shove and yank the vegetation out of her way. When she finally was able to read the stone, the moon took that opportunity to vanish behind some clouds, leaving her unable to read the inscription on the black stone.

_Maybe I can feel it..._ She placed a hand on the marker and began tracing the carved characters on the stone. _U...Ki..._

SHING

A glowing projectile embedded itself in the stone, whistling past Skeride's ear and illuminating the name. Skeride, unfortunately, had whirled around to see where the projectile had come from.

_No..._

Standing not fifty meters from her was the spirit of the Hibiki she had vanquished, her giant spatula at the ready. Green flames of ki surrounded her body, and her eyes glowed with a red deeper than that of the skin of a conquering dakini. Skeride scrambled to her feet. Or at least, she tried to...

"Don't bother." said the ghost. A tongue of ki burst from the aura of the spirit, surrounding the Assassin. Skeride found herself being crushed in a vice-like grip. The breath was squeezed from her lungs as she fought to escape from the ki field. The Hibiki walked over to her and looked the girl over.

"You and I have some unfinished business." said the spirit.

"You're gone! I destroyed you! You--"

"'--don't belong here.'" finished the Hibiki. "Sorry, sugar, but you've used that line on me before. Get some new material, hon."

"What do you want of me?" Skeride demanded, trying to keep face in spite of her increasing terror. _I knew she had power, but I never dreamed she was THIS powerful!_

"To kill you; what else?" the spirit shrugged. She gestured behind her. "You see, THEY would like to have a word with you."

Skeride looked behind the ghost to see them. The hundreds of shades she had put 'to rest'. Some were enveloped in purple ki fields, others had glowing red scars on portions of their anatomy, all were demanding revenge... Revenge on HER soul.

"You've annoyed quite a few people, Gosunkugi. QUITE a few. In fact, I would say that the chances of being sent to a place of eternal torment are quite good." The spatula ghost put an arm around Skeride and leaned in to whisper in her ear. "And I am the one who is going to send you there."

She sheathed her combat spatula, and produced one of the smaller ones.

"As I recall, I told you to go to Hell..." The blade of the spatula came to Skeride's throat. The congregation of spirits began cheering wildly. "...Let me, Kuonji Ukyou, be the first to say 'welcome'."

And with that, Ukyou slashed the throat of her killer.

--

"NOOOOOO!!" Skeride sat up with a start. Moonlight poured into her window. She felt the covers clenched tightly in her hands, then released them slowly, wiping the sweat from her brow.

_Just a dream..._

A dream, but a very significant one. A premonition. Could she have returned? Impossible. There was no escape from oblivion; in the Dharma realm there was no consciousness, no self to conceive a return. Emptiness and selfhood were incompatible ideas; where there was one in perfection, the other could not exist, and with her own hands, with her own life energy she ensured the total dissipation of the spectres.

Still, the fact remained. She dreamed of HER, and the dream was a nightmare. Was it guilt that brought this spirit to her mind now, after so many years? Was it regret? Was it a figment of her own subconscious, trying to find a way to deal with her affection for her cousin?

_Careful, Nutkin._ Skeride's mind danced with mental images from a foreign book she had read long ago. 'You might be an undigested bit of beef - there's more of gravy than of grave about you!' There was danger in underestimating the messages of the spirit realm, and the speaker of those words had learned his lesson three-fold.

The Assassin would not make the same mistake. She would be wary, and investigate rather than assuming, as too many often did in proud conceit and selfishness, that such omens were the product of their own minds. But first, she needed rest.

Skeride lay back down and forced herself to relax, trying to get the adrenaline out of her system. Her concentration soon paid off as she grew drowsy and hovered on the verge of sleep.

While she was falling into slumber, a memory from the dream crept into her thoughts. A name. _Kuonji Ukyou... _

I was a name she intended to find out more about.

--

_**You've failed, Mittsuko! Now she's even MORE determined to find out about the Envoy! **_

_**Are you sure about that, Hitotsu? **_

_**What? You mean to say that-- **_

_**This is exactly what we wanted to happen. The Assassin is about to learn that Death isn't always an absolute, even for the second time. **_

_**You're mad! **_

_**Is it mad to ensure our success? Skeride needs to be taken from active consideration. Killing her is not on our list of options so... **_

_**So? **_

_**I believe the term is 'rematch'. **_

_**Now I KNOW you're mad. What if the Envoy loses again? **_

_**Then, Hitotsu, we are out of a job... **_

--

"If we shadows have offended,

Think but this, and all is mended,

That you have but slumb'red here

While these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme,

No more yielding but a dream ..."

-William Shakespeare 'A Midsummer Night's Dream', Act V Scene 1

--

**TO BE CONTINUED... **


	33. Confessions and Revelations

**CONFESSIONS AND REVELATIONS **

Written by Jason 'Jai-kun' Langlois and Erin Mills

Ranma 2096 characters used with permission

--

"When I touch you like this

And you hold me like that

I just have to admit that

It's all coming back to me..."

-Jim Steinman, "It's All Coming Back To Me Now"

--

He crouched, unaffected by the driving rain, as most of the spirit world was. He knew she would show herself on this night of ghostly activity. Tonight, the Hunter would become the hunted. So swore Hibiki Ryouga.

As he waited with the patience of the spirit world, his thoughts wandered back to his 'reunion' with his wife. Inwardly, he shivered. He hadn't seen that look in her eye since the time he had visited her after... after he and Nabiki... The look in her eyes, the cold look of a woman who had finally seen the very depths of betrayal, had forced him to flee from his own wife, a woman he would have willingly given his life for all those years ago.

When he had seen her again, he discovered he would have given his afterlife for her, too. If only... if he hadn't betrayed her, taken advantage of a situation fueled by mental fatigue and frustration... If he hadn't dishonoured himself, his son, his wife... maybe then, they could have both been happy, both gone on to the afterlife they were meant to, even... even gone on together, instead of being cursed to walk the earth in vaporous form. That one dalliance, that one moment of weakness with Nabiki... his thoughts drowned in shame, even after all these years.

That mark on his honour was one of the reasons, he believed, he had been doomed to wander the earth. He shook his head, impatient with his own reverie. He would not fail her this time. He would make up for his past failings, or at least, one of them.

He looked to the 'trap', looked at the 'bait' awaiting there, glowing, and shuddered. Minnako stood, or floated, actually, just above her now-repaired gravestone. She glowed with her own ghostly essence, but the look of timid joy she felt in helping her still-living family had been replaced with a look of cold resignation. She herself had come to Ryouga after he began his search.

"Wanderer, I wish to repay you for saving me from the Assassin." Her timidity was gone, but her eyes... Ryouga noticed then, her eyes were cold and dark. Stoic. "I wish to help you find her. But... there must be a condition."

He had then seen the barest flicker of emotion. Pain flashed in her eyes. "You must let her exorcise me."

Ryouga had nearly refused. But the pain in her eyes... It reminded him of Ukyou the day they had discovered she would not be released from the Institute. Even now the memory burned him with anger and disgust. Instead of the refusal already nearly past his lips, he had asked for an explanation.

The pain flashed... flared into her eyes as she began her story. "I had been home all night. Yakume... he hadn't... I was waiting for him, just to see him..." Though she fought it, Ryouga could see by her trembling lips and wet glow near her eyes that her heart had been crushed. "When he came home... He was with another..."

He didn't ask her to go on after she had stopped her tears. He agreed, both to let her lead him to the proper place, and to allow her to be exorcised by Skeride.

He had no intention of keeping that second promise.

The rain abated, and Ryouga shifted slightly, more out of habit than any discomfort. She would come soon. It was nearly impossible to resist, the shining ghost hovering, this spirit that had once escaped her clutches, nearly visible to even the least perceptive, on Friday the thirteenth. She would come soon. The voice that rang out proved it.

"The time has come."

Minnako started, then righted herself as Skeride let the shadows fall from her. "So, Minnako. We meet again." The smugness in the Assassin's voice turned Ryouga's spiritual stomach, but he held.

_Not until after. Not until she starts the exorcism._

Skeride was in a talkative mood, perhaps pleased with herself that she had found this missed opportunity again.

"I see you've seen your husband lately," she practically purred, already beginning to glow lilac. Ryouga tensed in readiness. Minnako's voice wavered, but she did not break.

"Do what you will, Assassin," she spat. "I no longer belong here." That seemed to touch a cord with Skeride. Her eyes darkened dangerously.

"You _never_ belonged here!" The voice was barely above a whisper, but reached the ghostly ears with venom. She raised her hands and allowed the sphere to glow. Suddenly, she smiled again. "I hope you aren't too attached to your little boy's new mother. I told you, I have much experience in mind control."

Realisation hit Minnako just before Skeride released her soul trap. It hit Ryouga seconds before. He stood.

"SKER-"

He never got to finish his shout.

A green flash blinded him for a short second. When he opened his eyes again, Ukyou stood before him, anger distorting her features. Ryouga looked around, realising that the three of them were no longer at the cemetery, but on the roof of the administration building of the university. Across the roof Minnako was looking around, confused.

Ukyou glared at Ryouga, glowing brightly. Her words were calm, but the chill in them caused every sense in him to grow arctically cold.

"I told you to stay out of my way." Ryouga looked up at his former spouse. He was, for the first time in decades, speechless.

Ukyou glanced at his dumbfounded expression with undisguised contempt. "Skeride is MINE." she growled. "NO ONE gets to her before I do. Do you understand me? NO one. This is your second warning, Ryouga. Three strikes and you're out."

The Envoy turned to leave. Ryouga found his voice. "So, you're here to deal with her then? I thought it had something to do with another son we supposedly had."

Ukyou turned. "No, I'm not here to deal with her. That's a little... bonus task I've set for myself. As for the rest, I've already told you everything I can. Not that I expect you to care."

"I DO care!" Ryouga protested. "I care about YOU. I want to help you, Oko-cha-" He was cut off by a quick slap across the face. When he looked up, red light was pouring from Ukyou's eyes.

"_Don't you EVER call me that again!" _she said icily. "You lost your rights to call me that when you stopped coming to see me; when you threw me out for the others."

"Others?" Ryouga repeated. "What others? There was only Nabik--"

Ryouga clapped a hand over his own mouth, realising what he had just said. _Hibiki, _taunted an inner voice._ You haven't any brain._

Ukyou's aura had shrunk to near-nothing. The shadows hid her face from view.

_So,_ she thought, _that was her little 'mission of mercy' that time. She was already sleeping with my husband, so she came to laugh at me. Laugh at me for being so stupid. And I sat there and listened to it. _She raised her face to meet Ryouga's.

"Whore."

Ryouga blinked.

"Nani?"

"You're a whore. You slept with Nabiki, and she gave you her company in payment. A company with enough power to get me away from Takamoshi and his thugs, and you... did... NOTHING! You had wealth and influence, and yet you did nothing with it. You just loafed around, enjoying your wealth. You are a whore, Ryouga! You are a prostitute!"

"I did try! But Kyoofu had me in a deadlock! I couldn't get you out! And after Nabiki died, it took months to get all the paperwork signed and settled. I tried!"

"Oh, you tried, did you?" She knelt down next to her ex-husband. "Shall I tell you of what I went through while I foolishly waited for you? Shall I tell you of the innumerable combination of drugs Takamoshi 'prescribed' for me, so I couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't? Shall I tell you of how every day the orderlies would come in with scalpels and tubes and other surgical equipment and make off with parts of me?"

Her expression darkened and her tone dropped to a whisper. "Shall I tell you of how after the samples were taken, the orderlies would take 'special privileges' with me?"

Ryouga looked at her in shock. "Ok-Ukyou, you mean you were-" Ukyou looked up sharply, remembered tears glistening in the corner of her eyes.

"Where were you?" she asked.

Ryouga's mind flashed back to that one letter, the one he had received after the visits stopped. His heart broke all over again. He turned, the shame renewed, not able to look at her face.

"I couldn't face you," he whispered. Ukyou's own cold voice struck his back as if he hadn't said anything.

"Where were you when... when I cried at night because I just wanted to be home?" Her voice began to tremble. "When I woke up screaming because you weren't next to me? Where were you then, Ryouga?" Her voice, sharp with pain and bitterness, pierced the core of Ryouga's heart. "You were... You were playing out your Tendo fantasies at home."

Ryouga spun, anger and horror flashing through his eyes. His teeth were clenched, his jaw muscles working in almost human reflection of his frustration.

"No! No, Ukyou, I wasn't playing out my 'Tendo fantasies'! You really want to know where I was?" She met his dark gaze with a look of defiance, daring him to tell her the truth. "I was failing!! I was trying to get you out of that damned place, back home whereyoubelonged, and I was failing with every step I took!"

Ukyou looked at his trembling body with utter contempt. "Right. How convenient that the only thing you tried was the courts..."

The look that pinned Ukyou to the ground also tightened her throat around her accusation. The pain in Ryouga's voice nearly crumbled the walls she'd built around her heart, the hatred she'd felt for him since... to her surprise, she could no longer remember. Ryouga's voice was strained, his breathing, though not required, rapid and shallow.

"Ukyou, you sit there and think you have it all figured out. You think I forgot you, that it was easy for me to lie in that huge bed and feel empty space where there was warmth once? You think it was easy... if so, you're a bigger fool than I am." Ukyou's mouth opened in anger, but snapped shut as he continued. "I did try to break you out. I was all ready... I saw you asleep... all I could think about was getting you out, holding you, and telling you how much I'd wished I'd done this sooner. Then... Kyoofu showed up. He was surrounded by four of the orderlies. Big guys... One was that officer whose arm I broke... He told me..."

Ryouga's voice caught, the remembered failure draining his resolve. "He told me he'd blacklist Kioku if I tried anything. He told me I couldn't visit you until they did a review. I... I decided... to get Nabiki to help me..."

Ukyou's anger flooded, almost to the level it had been before. "Why not? She was already 'helping' you in other ways!"

"What are you _talking_ about?! She _used_ me! She hurt Kasumi, and blamed _me_ for it! She seduced me, made me betray you, all so she could get what she wanted!"

Ukyou looked in his eyes. One thing she remembered about Ryouga came crashing to the surface of her thoughts. _Hibiki Ryouga may have his faults, but he's never lied to you. _

She mentally kicked herself for even wasting her time with him.

"J-just stay out of my way, Ryo- Ryouga." She stood and began to walk off. "Leave Skeride to me. Leave it all to me." She halted as words struck her back.

"Running away, Oko-chan?"

She stopped dead in her tracks.

"I told you, don't _ever_ call me that again." Her words were forced, quiet, but she knew Ryouga heard. "I told you, you don't deserve to call me that. Not when you slept with Nabiki. Not when you walked out on me." The words sounded hollow to her in the face of his own words. But one last memory blasted past her lips, the pain too much to even try to hold it back. "Not when you didn't even show up on my last birthday."

Ryouga's own voice, also a whisper, floated on the breeze to her. The sadness and hurt in that small whisper reminded her of the pain she felt when she visited the graves of his former love and her fiancee.

"I did."

Ukyou turned and faced her...husband? No, it had been far too many years for her to allow herself to call him that. Had he? Had he actually visited her?

"No," she replied quietly. "I remember. You didn't show up."

"No, you're right." Ryouga admitted. Ukyou began to feel her spiritual heart sink. "I arrived the next day. In the afternoon. They-they told me you died the night before. And STILL, still Takamoshi refused to let me see you! As if you were still a danger to his precious Institute!"

Ukyou returned to Ryouga's side. "What-" she swallowed. "What did you do?"

"Kyoofu no longer had a hold on me, so I busted my way in and rescued you..."

--

Ryouga dashed down the corridors of the Institute, Ukyou's body cradled in his arms. Tears were streaming down his face.

They had taken her from him! His WIFE! They had taken one of the kindest, gentlest souls he'd ever met in his years of aimless wandering and destroyed her.

There had been an old saying which had been altered somewhat in Japan over the last few decades: Hell hath no fury like a Hibiki scorned. Ryouga had already left three guards with broken limbs, another two would need full body casts and as for the ex-cop that wanted the rematch... well, they were making wonderful new advances in respirator technology.

Ryouga wasn't stupid, however. He had taken care to disguise himself in the tattered brown cloak and goggles he'd used while wandering in the desert before he'd arrived in Shikoku. The black clothing was an added help. He was almost out. There was only one other thing he needed to do...

The door to Takamoshi's office exploded. Bits of steel reinforced wood showered the office proper. Takamoshi instinctively hit the floor, trying to avoid the shower of building materials. He cowered under his desk as he heard someone enter the room. There was a rustle of leather as something was laid on the sofa. Then a pair of black shoes came into his field of vision. The feet were pointed away from him, then turned, and again so they were facing him.

The desk was suddenly ripped away, bathing Takamoshi in brightness. He squinted upward at the cloaked figure that was silhouetted against the picture window of his office.

The figure reached down, and hoisted the not-so-good doctor up by the collar of his coat until he was nose to nose with the goggled assailant. The lenses of the goggles were mirror-tinted, so Takamoshi could only see his fat, terrified, middle-aged face in them.

"Know this," the figure said in a harsh whisper. "I will return, and put an end to all the misery and suffering you've caused. She," the figure gestured at the body of Hibiki Ukyou that was laying on the sofa. "will be your last victim." With this, his assailant dropped Takamoshi, picked up the body and dove through the window.

Three days later, Hibiki Ukyou was buried. The engraving on the marker said simply 'Sumimasen.'

--

Ukyou studied Ryouga. He cared, he really did care. She believed him now. He did care for her. Why else would he do such a thing for her? But still, there was a part of her that refused to believe it, that felt he was still hiding something. It was this part that prompted her to ask her next question.

"Why are you here, Ryouga? Don't tell me it was to become the champion of Nerima's dead. What happened? Did you get lost again?" her attempt at humour fell flat.

Ryouga tensed. What to do? Dare he tell her that he'd gotten lost because he'd seen Akane at the side of his body as he was leaving? Or should he just say that he'd gotten lost? Ryouga struggled with a dilemma he'd not dealt with since he was a teenager. He decided he wouldn't lie to her again. The words came out on their own.

"I stayed because...I saw Akane as I was leaving."

The original phrase was 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'.

And in Ukyou's case, it was quite literal. The green ki flames returned, burning with a fury he had only seen when she had first returned to Tokyo.

"So." was all she said. Ryouga watched as his former spouse walked across the roof to Minnako. The two women spoke for a while, then he watched Ukyou raise a hand above Minnako's head. Within moments, Minnako was surrounded by a field of green ki. After a moment, Minnako became a mere shadow inside the field. And when the field faded, there was no trace of the spirit.

Ryouga stood and walked over to where Ukyou was preparing to leave. He placed a hand on her arm.

"Ukyou, please..."

Ukyou stiffened as if to throw his arm off, then relaxed. Her next words came out quietly.

"I've sent Minnako to where she needs to be." She turned to look at the Wanderer. "I don't want to see you anymore, Ryouga. But if you insist on interfering...our other son's name is Sable."

With that, there was a second flash and Ryouga found himself back in the cemetery. He was conscious of only one thought.

_I've lost her. I've lost the only woman I've ever truly loved. No! I refuse to let that happen! I love her, and she loves me! She's just forgotten! Forgotten how much she meant to me! I must find a way to prove my love..._

After a moment, an idea came into his head.

--

Ukyou stared at the spot Ryouga had been standing in, before she sent him away. Despite his confession, she had not sent him away in anger.

_I don't love him anymore. That's the truth of it, isn't it? I've fallen out of love with him. Then why did I tell him Sable's name? Do I truly want his help? I-I-_

The tears began to form again, and Ukyou closed her eyes as the sun began to come up over the horizon. Then, quiet as a breath of wind that blows through a meadow, she spoke: "Ryo-chan..."

--

"To repeat tonight's top story; the historic Tokyo Institute for the Criminally Insane was destroyed today in an explosion of unknown origin. The former mental hospital and now museum was completely obliterated in what some are beginning to call an 'Act of God'..."

**FIN**


End file.
